


A Collaborative Process

by glintwarsgreatest



Category: Hunger Games (2012), Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2017-11-23 18:54:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 53,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glintwarsgreatest/pseuds/glintwarsgreatest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the only way to escape darkness is to find someone else who is trying as well. Katniss and Peeta, Modern AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains the following: sex. Rough language. Drug Use. Alcohol Abuse. Mental Abuse. Physical Abuse. Self Harm. Later on it will contain the following trigger warnings: Suicide, Rape, and Violent Death. I’m really not kidding around with those warnings either.

I woke up on the cold hard floor of the tiled bathroom, not for the first time, and definitely not for the last. I struggled to lift my upper body up for a few seconds to take in my surroundings before collapsing with a loud groan. I used my arms one more time to flop myself off my stomach and onto my back, shielding my eyes from the light coming from the small window above the toilet. 

“Fuck.” My voice was hoarse, and based on the smell coming from my mouth I had thrown up last night. Judging by my lack of clothing I had also been what some people refer to as “wild and out Katniss”. I looked around from my spot on the floor for my phone, finding it on the edge of the tub. I had a lot of texts and missed calls. 

A standard “morning after blacking out” rule is to not read text or answer calls from unknown numbers, so I went straight to Gale’s and Madge’s messages. Madge’s were the standard “let me know that you’re alive” texts that I’ve come to expect given my penchant for blacking out all the fucking time. I quickly text her back telling her I’m alive and not in some stranger’s bed, and that I would see her later for the details before opening Gale’s awaiting messages. Gale and Madge are the only two people at this school I actually consider “friends”, the main difference between the two of them being that I don’t have sex with Madge, but I do with Gale. He’s hot, he’s a fun friend, and more importantly I don’t always have to shave because he doesn’t give a shit. 

Gale: Yo Catnip. Did you go home as alone as I did?  
Gale: And Glimmer doesn’t get here until 9pm so get your ass over here in the morning.  
Me: I need to shower. Also if you wouldn’t mind doing me a favor, I ‘d like for you to fuck my hangover away. Be there in 30 mins. 

I used to care about how crass I had become over the past few years, but lately I had stopped caring. I didn’t care what other people thought of me, and I really didn’t care about what I thought of myself. Or actually, I think I cared about my own self-perception too much, which is why I haven’t been consistently sober in over 3 years. But until the booze doesn’t clear my head and the random sex stops being good I have no intentions to stop. 

I pulled myself up and into the shower, examining my new bruises from the night before. I vaguely remembered falling off a bar stool last night, which explained why my ass hurt so bad, but it was noting a few bars of xanax wouldn’t fix. After I washed my hair, body, and brushed my teeth, I braided my hair and threw on a pair of shorts and an oversized sweatshirt. The best part of Gale being my fuck buddy is he didn’t care what I looked like in my clothes, so I never have to dress up. I grabbed my purse and keys before heading out the door of my little one bedroom apartment towards my car. 

In my little piece of shit car I pulled on a pair of sunglasses and lit a cigarette. It wasn’t a long drive to Gale’s but it wasn’t a quick one either, and when my stomach grumbled I pulled out my phone to call him. 

“Katniss you on your way?” He sounded annoyed. He was probably already hard and I was making him wait. Good for me. 

“Calm your tits Hawthorne. Yes I’m on my way. Do you want food? I’m fucking starving.” 

“Kat I’ve got bacon, beer and weed. Seriously. Do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars.” I rolled my eyes, and I could hear the porn he was watching in the background. 

“Gale I swear to God I meant it last time when I said no more lesbian porn while we fuck. It’s distracting. Be there in 5.” I ended the conversation and finished my cigarette, flicking it out of the window. I absentmindedly remembered having a paper due in three days. Shit. Looks like I was going to the library tonight. 

My car pulled into Gale’s house’s driveway and I didn’t even knock before I opened the door. One of his douche bag roommates was sitting on the couch and we ignored each other as I walked directly to Gale’s room, though I noticed he did turn the volume on the TV up. A lot. I grinned, because now I was going to make sure I was extra loud just to piss the little prick off, and I flung open Gale’s door. 

He was sitting on his bed watching the TV on his desk, but he turned it off when I walked in, turning his stereo on instead. I rolled my eyes at his choice of music, which was predictably dubstep – but I have to admit the temp matched our fucking. Fast, rough, and loud. I closed the door behind me as Gale took his shirt off and scooted to the edge of the bed. I pulled my sweatshirt off and walked over to him. 

“Cato turned the volume up on the TV super loud. I fucking hate that guy.” I pulled my hair out of its braid, pulled my pants off and straddled his lap. 

“And?” Gale knew what I was trying to say and knew I hated dirty talk, but unless I told him what I wanted I wouldn’t get it. So I grabbed his hair and yanked his head away from where he had been kissing my neck, looking him square in the eyes. 

“So you should put that huge dick you’re so proud of to work and make me scream so loud and come so hard he moves his cunt ass out.” He grinned at me and I felt how much harder he got when I talked to him that way. If anyone from high school had just heard what I had said, they probably would have taken me to the hospital to see if I had a brain tumor; to say I’ve changed since I left my hometown would be a gross understatement. I was brought back to reality by the searing pain coming from my left nipple, and I felt myself get instantly turned on. I groaned and Gale slapped my ass in response. I began to grind my hips into his lap, his athletic shorts still between us. 

“Fuck Katniss. You’re so wet you’re soaking my shorts. Is that what I do to you? How bad do you fucking want my dick?” Gale talks this way only when we’re having sober sex. I sued to tune it out because I hate it, but he cut me off for two weeks and it’s too difficult to find unattached sex with someone as good in bed as Gale that I pay attention now. I don’t hate it any less though. 

“You fucking feel how wet I am. Shouldn’t be too hard for you to figure out how bad I want it.” He growled at me and flipped me off his lap, onto my back on the bed, and he tore his shorts off. Ah there it is, the reason he can say whatever he wants to me. Honestly his dick was perfect – and the cocky asshole knew it. He grabbed my calves and pulled me across the bed towards him. He started rubbing his head against my clit and the rest of my pussy and I moaned. Really really loudly. 

“Want to know what I’m going to do to you Katniss?” His eyes were dark, and when he pushed the top of his cock in quickly I almost started to actually whine. 

“Tease me until I get pissed off and leave?” I was literally panting at this point, and he slid his entire shaft up and down me as punishment for smarting off. 

“No smartass. I’m going to take you from behind, I’m going to slam in you so hard and so fast that you’ll think your fucking teeth are going to fall out and then you’re going to wrap that smartass mouth around my dick and I’m going to come in your mouth.” My eyes rolled back in my head. Something was seriously wrong with how much that turned me on. 

“How about instead of talking about it you fucking do it Gale?” I was ready to go and I consider foreplay something that only pussies that like to lay around watching shit like “The Notebook” like to do. Gale took the hint, flipping me over, onto all fours, and my hands gripped the sheets in a vice like grip. Gale slapped my ass so hard I knew it would bruise. 

“You want me inside of you?” he growled at me, slapping my ass again and I groaned. “Tell me Katniss.” 

“Gale I want you inside of me.” I moaned as he reached between my legs and ran his fingers over me once, before spreading my legs a little wider. 

“Louder. So the whole neighbor hood can hear how bad you crave my cock.” I almost sighed. I hate when he does this shit. I need to invest in a gag, but yelling would piss Cato off which is something I really enjoy doing, so I give in. 

“Gale please fuck me! I need you inside of me!” I screamed in a high pitch voice, like the porn starts he likes to watch so much, and he didn’t hesitate to slam into me any longer. He was holding my hips so tight to keep me upright, and he was slamming into me so hard it almost hurt; which is coincidently how I like it. 

“Fuck me faster Gale.” I practically snarl it at him, and he followed my request instantly. At this speed and in this position there was a good chance my tits were going to actually be shaken off of my body, but they weren’t anything special anyways. I was moaning so loudly I was pretty sure I was going to lose my voice, until it turned from moans into shouts and screams of “Yes!” and “Fuck!”. When my orgasm hit, I could feel myself shaking, and when Gale got close to his own he pulled out of me, and flipped me around before pushing my head down to where he wanted my mouth to be. I slide off the bed, my legs spread, and put my mouth around his cock to deep throat him. He thrusts into my mouth and I began to finger myself furiously to get to a second orgasm. He grips my hair hard and I taste him come in my mouth as my body jerks in my own hand. Gale pulls me to stand, and I crawl backwards onto his bed. He joins me, leaning over to his nightstand and lighting a joint. As we pass it and watch Swamp People, I hear Cato say something alone the lines of “fucking finally” and Gale and I dissolve into a fit of laughter. 

I wake up an eternity later, naked in Gale’s bed. I can feel his arms around me, his breath on my neck. No. I have to get out of here. Spooning is not part of this deal. We fuck. I sleep at home in my bed by myself after we fuck. I start to shrug myself out of Gale’s arms, but he tightens them around me, bringing my back flush against his chest, and kissing my neck. 

“Go back to sleep baby.” He nuzzles me with his nose, and I know he’s still asleep but right now the last place I want to be is wrapped in his arms as he calls me baby. I feel like I’m going to puke but I’m stuck, his arms are too heavy, so I give in and fall back asleep, the taste of acid in my mouth. 

The last thing I’m aware of as I drift back to sleep is Gale dreamily saying my name, and as I fade to black, terror grips my soul. 

When I finally reawake, I am alone. I can hear the shower running and I know Gale is inside washing the smell of my cum off of him before his girlfriend comes to town. I shrug my clothes on and take my “thanks for all the orgasms” gift to Gale out of my purse and toss it on his bed. We have this great system where we fuck, and give each other free doses of whatever we’re currently in possession of. He’ll be happy when he gets out of the shower and finds his new bag of Klonopin and Xanax. His girlfriend Glimmer is fucking awful, and doesn’t “let” him smoke weed or drink, so when he told me she was coming up this weekend I made sure the drugs would be useful. I take a xanax myself and exit his room. 

I poke my head into the bathroom as I leave, and Gale throws back the shower curtain because apparently modesty is something he only practices with his born again Christian girlfriend. She’s never seen his dick. She’s missing out. 

“You leaving Catnip?” Gale throws his arms on the shower rod and steam is billowing out of the shower around him. He looks like a fucking male model. 

“Yeah, wouldn’t want Glimmer to get here and have an actual heart attack.” I’m leaning against the doorframe grinning at him. He groans. 

“Fuck Glimmer. I hate when she comes to town.” I laugh at him. He says this all the time, but for some reason he keeps on dating her. It probably has something to do with her money. 

“You just hate that she won’t fuck you.” Gale flashes a grin that lets me know I’m partially right, and I sling my purse over my shoulder turning to walk away. As I do Gale yells at me from the shower. 

“I’ll miss you, call you the second she leaves sweetheart!” 

The moment he jokingly calls me sweetheart I swear I can feel the bile in my stomach start to rush up to my mouth. Why? He always says that, and I’ve always known he was kidding, or I thought he was. Until he called me baby and muttered my name in his sleep, until I realized he looks at me differently when we go out, or how lately he hasn’t been going home with anyone but me. Instead of responding to him I quickly leave his house and jump into my car. 

As I bring a cigarette to my mouth I realize my hands are shaking - no my entire body is. I haven’t eaten or drank anything all day, so the only thing on my stomach is whatever is left of last night’s booze, a handful of xanax, and semen. I dig around the floor of my car, finding a half empty water bottle that I instantly drain. As I drive, I try to force myself to think of anything other than what I observed with Gale tonight, because if he knows I know, he’ll act on his feelings; and I can’t handle that. Not now. Not ever really. I don’t want to be loved. I want to be fucked. Love breaks you. Not your heart (it breaks that too though), but your soul, your spirit, your fucking goddamned mind. Because when loves goes wrong and you’re totally invested, there’s absolutely nothing that can fix you after. People will lie and say that that shit mends over time, but that’s rank bullshit spewed from the mouths of optimists who have never had anything bad happen to them. The only thing that helps is to dull the pain, however you can. Some people choose reading books or taking care of an absurd number of cats. I chose alcohol, drugs, and meaningless sex. It’s easier to shift the focus off a broken heart if you fucking despise yourself, and a lack of sobriety helps that along nicely. 

When I pull into my apartment complex, I’m on my third cigarette. I grab my mail on the way up, and ignore a wave from my neighbor Delly Cartwright, who is so used to my mood swings she just giggles at being ignored. If it weren’t for the fact that she has carried me up the stairs and helped me into my apartment on more than one occasion, I would never acknowledge her. Usually after a night like that I bring her some weed brownies or something. It’s not a friendship really, but it works. 

Standing inside at my kitchen counter, I throw my mail on the counter top; and look at the stove clock. 7:37 pm. I really need to go to the library to write that paper, so I go into my room and gather what I’ll need. Grabbing a backpack I stuff in my Mac Book and it’s charger, a notepad, pens, a pack of gum, a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, a blanket (because the library gets so cold), a water bottle, my wallet, and some deodorant. I take out my “unofficial” pill case, and pull out my safe from my closet. 

When I was first starting to sell my medications in high school as a way to buy things I needed, I learned quickly how lucrative – and dangerous – the “business” could be. When I “expanded” my product base I bought a safe. 

I pull out my medication bottles. I roll my eyes at my bottle of Zoloft, and discard it back into the safe. I quit taking it a week ago and I can already feel how clear my head is. My thoughts are unfiltered. It’s dangerous, but I feel more like myself at least. 

Finding the bottle I’m looking for, I shake some of the 30mg adderall into my hand and snap the top back on the orange pill bottle, closing my safe. I put all but one adderall into the secret pill case (actually an old matchbook box), and pull the 3 remaining xanax from my pocket to toss in as well. I change into sweatpants, a t-shirt, a zip up hooded jacket, thermal socks, and a pair of Adidas sandals. I plug my phone into charge and leave my backpack on my bed, heading back out into my kitchen. 

It’s 8:00 now, and I promised myself to be at the library by 9:00, when the fat douches leave to go out and the girls doing “frat laps” dutifully follow. If there’s anything more pathetic than watching girls fight for the attention of guys like Cato who don’t give two fucks about them, I hope I never have to see it. You can smell the desperation in the air – and it smells like home baked goods and hair products, and it wears Lilly and pearls. 

I put my adderall on the marble kitchen counter top, and fish an old plastic Olive Garden gift card out of my junk drawer, tossing it next to the pill. I quickly down a glass of water, and eat a leftover piece of grilled chicken, so I have something on my stomach. I place the gift card on top of the pill and use my palm on the plastic to crush and grind it up. After repeating the action a few times, I use the edge of the card to form the orange powder into a straight, thin line. I pull out a dollar from my hoodie picket and tightly roll it to a usable size, sticking one end in my left nostril, and using a finger to close up my right one. I snort the line up, continuing to pick up the little leftover traces of powder before pulling out the money and wiping my nose with the back of my palm. Adderall burns when you snort it, and it tastes awful, but I can’t ignore my pre-library tradition. 

I clean up the counter, and tuck a cigarette behind my ear before finally going through my mail. As per usual the to-go menus and meal deal offer are intermixed with the occasional bill, but one letter catches my attention, and causes me to pour myself a scotch and water. The letter was addressed to me in my mother’s handwriting. I grab the glass and a lighter and walk over to my apartment’s balcony. I leave the doors open as I sit on the old chair I had stolen from a part once, putting my feet on the step stool I used as a “table”. I lit my cigarette and take a long gulp of my drink, feeling the weight of the letter in my lap. 

I haven’t spoken to my mom in two years. Well, more than that really, but I haven’t acknowledged her existence since I left for school, scholarships funding my way, letting me cut any and all ties to her. She hasn’t tried to contact me either. I take another gulp of my drink, effectively draining it, and toss the glass inside. Picking up the letter I stare intently at it as I smoke, as if I’m waiting for it to just tell me what it says. I flick my butt over the balcony – because I know how much it pisses off the maintenance guys – and decide to not open the letter. She waited to years to say whatever is in that envelope; I can wait a few more days to read it. 

Shrugging on my backpack and turning out my lights I trudge out my door and into my car to head towards the library, the letter obsessively rolling around my mind. It was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

I trudge up the stairs of the library to the 4th floor, not bothering to even stop at the three below it. I’ll never be able to understand the people who come to the library to socialize under the pretense of “studying”. Isn’t that why there are bars? The 4th floor however is my oasis. It’s always painfully quiet, there are no long tables, and the groups that come here to study actually do just that. There’s a sort of camaraderie up here that comes with free drugs and cigarettes. 

I find an empty table by an electrical outlet and set my backpack down, claiming my territory. I go about setting up my study area “just so” before I finally sit down. My paper is for my poetry class, but since the grad student who teaches it never takes attendance, I never go, and have no idea what it’s actually on. I really did try to give the class a chance because I do really enjoy lit and poetry, but after listening to a group of self proclaimed “intellects” wax on poetically about the beauty of Sylvia Plath’s multiple suicide attempts, I only go to class now to turn in assignments and take tests. I hate when people talk about the beauty in suicide or death, because if either is something you’ve experienced you know there isn’t any beauty. Death is dreadful. Suicide is a release, and for some people it’s the only peace they’ll ever find. That’s not beautiful. That’s a harsh reality. 

I click on the syllabus for class and look down under assignments. There are multiple choices but I decide to go with Choice 3. 

“For your second paper, discuss an ancient philosophy that has transcended time and seeped into modern day poetry and literature, giving examples in both. Must be 3-5 pages, double spaced.” 

Well ok then. I sigh and decide what my next move should be. I could spend actual time on this and do actual research or I could to straight for an old personal favorite and bullshit the rest of the paper. I make my decision and make my way to the 5th floor, where I know the philosophy books are housed. 

As I slowly peruse the isles I lose myself. I’ve always loved libraries. The smell of old books, the sheer amount of knowledge housed behind the walls of often unassuming buildings. You don’t have to speak to a soul but you’re never alone in a place like this. I allow my fingertips to trail over the spines of the old musty books until I reach my destination. 

When I was a kid, I would always lose myself in books. I didn’t have many friends, because I preferred the company of fictional characters and silence, and when you’re 11 the other kids think that’s weird. Most kids don’t read their first novel at 7 years old either I suppose. While my mom was always worried I was some sort of social pariah, my dad fed my obsession. For my 13th birthday, he packed a suitcase and a bunch of food and we rode up to the small hunting cabin he kept in the Georgia Mountains. To this day I’ve never been in a more serene or beautiful place. The air was always so crisp, and you couldn’t help but fill your lungs to the brim with it every time you journeyed outside. After a day of hunting we had transversed back to the cabin and he had presented me with a set of books on philosophy. They were beautiful; hard covers, golden paper, silk red bookmarks, with the works of ancient men written on the pages. My dad was the smartest man I had ever known, with a grasp on what life really was and what it could be, and it made him happy. He passed his understanding onto me, but that’s the thing. When you understand life to be full of love, and laughter, and simple moments it’s easy to smile, to be optimistic. But that’s not life. Life is a struggle, a race where humans try to make sense of humanity, emotions, pain and death, but just continually fuck up everything in the process. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t long for ignorance from the truths that were forced upon me at a young age. 

However, one of the reasons I’m able to so easily maintain my scholarships and grades without stepping foot in class, instead spending my days and nights in a drugged and drunk stupor, is because I’m so well read that bullshitting a paper is laughably easy. I reach out towards the book of Plato’s works and pull it off the shelf, quickly looking around me before opening the pages and taking a deep breath. I may not read as much as I used to – or ever really – but I still love the smell of a book. I wish I could bottle it and spray everything I own with it, but the stench of cigarette smoke will have to do instead.

Back at my table I plop back into my chair and pull on a pair of unnecessary soundproof headphones on an already silent floor. I flip on my “study” play list, full of depressing and melancholy songs, putting my feet up on the chair across from me as the sounds of the XX fill my ears. I can feel my fucking jaw starting to lock, my teeth grinding together, which is a lovely side effect of my consistent adderall abuse, and I scrounge around my backpack for the gum I packed earlier. I pop in a few pieces and begin to flip through the book I had plucked off the shelves minutes earlier. 

Most people would roll their eyes at my enjoyment of ancient philosophy – it does seem pretentious even to myself – but the only class I’ve ever regularly attended and was sober for during my two and a half years here was in fact my ancient philosophy class. The idea that musings of men from thousands of years ago is still relevant and admired is fascinating to me even if I don’t buy into most of what they had to say. 

I reach what I’m looking for. Honestly for the assignment all of the musings on love in Plato’s The Symposium could be used, but I’m only interested in Aristophanes’ speech on soul mates. The basic idea is that before humans became what we are, we had “double bodies”, and were so powerful that our predecessors had planned on trying to take down the gods. To stop that from happening, Zeus split us in half, effectively dooming us as a race to spend our entire lives looking for what we’ve lost, our soul mate, our other half. When it comes to an absolutely ridiculous postulation that has somehow transcended time and literature, I don’t think a better one exists. 

I pull out a piece of blank paper and begin to jot down a rough outline, but my craving for nicotine distracts me. The clock on my computer reads 10:30pm, and I’ve at least started on the outline so I deserve a little break. I pull out my lighter, new pack of cigarettes, my wallet, and phone and make my way down the stairs and out of the door. 

It’s a muggy and humid night; the air feels like a steam room when you breathe it in. Fucking Florida summers are the worst. I pull up my hood and sit cross-legged on top of one of the metal tables in the “smoking” area in front of the library. In front of where I sit is a huge green, where on any given sunny day students can be found laying out, playing Frisbee, or just lounging around. I’ve never been one of them, and frankly they annoy me. 

I light my cigarette and inhale its fucking beautiful toxicity deeply. I feel the nicotine wash over my body, the tension brought on by the adderall rolling off me temporarily in waves. I close my eyes and throw my head back, exhaling slowly. Madge always goes on and on about how bad these things are for you, and she’s right they are, but so is everything else I fucking do so I have no plans to stop this indulgence. 

An amused chuckle next to me brings me immediately out of my own thoughts. I snap my head to the left of where I sit, to see a tall, muscular boy eyeing me in obvious amusement. He’s fucking gorgeous. His blonde hair is shaggy, his stubble pure perfection, and I’m pretty sure you could cut lines with his defined jaw. He’s wearing a blue v-neck and a pair of jeans that fit him really – really well, and one of his eyebrows is cocked at me. 

“Can I help you?” my tone is harsh, because not only has he interrupted my cigarette alone time, but he is looking at me like I just told him I actually think unicorns exist. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, but you look like that cigarette is better than sex. I was wondering if I could bum one.” His voice is deep and sexy as hell. I dangle my own cigarette from my lips and toss him the pack. He pulls one out and walks over to join me. 

“I uh need a light.” I roll my eyes at him and flick my thumb over my lighter, bringing the flame to life. He leans forward, cupping his hands around mine to shield the fire, and looks up at me as he quickly lights his cigarette. The flame flickers in his eyes, and I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a more beautiful blue. I am overwhelmed with a personal urge to sit on his face. 

After he lights his cigarette and withdraws, he sits on the table top next to me. Usually such an invasion of my space would be weird, but smoking outside of the library at 10:45pm at night bonds people. 

“Do you always come to the library so prepared?” I ask him as I take a drag, and I hear him snort.

“I’ve been here for three hours, and I already ran out actually. I guess that’s what happens when you take to chain smoking to stay awake.” He smiles at me, and my heartbeat quickens. I really need to lay off the adderall. 

“Ah you see, if you were a seasoned veteran, you would know that to pull off a successful all nighter, you always bring a brand new pack with you. And that you can buy adderall, vyvanse, focaline, coke, or anything else on the 4th floor to help you stay awake.” I pull out a new cigarette, lighting it with my almost finished one, and hand him one to do the same. 

“Thanks.” He mumbles and doesn’t seem grossed out by my chain smoking, so maybe it really wasn’t a pick up tactic like I had originally assumed. “So the 4th floor huh? I just transferred here so I don’t know those kind of veteran secrets. Is it any quieter than the 2nd floor? Because if I have to listen to one more group of giggling girls I may burn the building down.” I laugh. So apparently not all guys like girls throwing themselves at them. Gale eats that shit up. 

“Yeah it’s always quiet. I’m working on a paper and haven’t even heard someone fucking cough.” He hops off our shared tabletop, and standing in front of me sticks out his hand. I take it and he is grinning at me as he shakes my entire arm. 

“Well, girl who I’ve just met, whether you meant to or not, you just inadvertently gained yourself a study partner. I’m Peeta by the way. “ I slide my hand out of his and slowly climb off the table, looking him up and down. I didn’t really want a study partner but if I had to have one at least he was a fucking man-god. 

“Well Peeta, I’m Katniss. Get your shit and meet me on the 4th floor.” I didn’t wait to see if he had anything to say and immediately turned to walk into the building. I heard him laughing behind me.

“Alright Katniss, see you up there in a minute.” I doubted he would actually be joining me. He looked like he had really just wanted some free cigarettes and I’m sure he probably had a table full of girls waiting for his return. How could he not? I was basically salivating over him in my own mind, so I’m sure the girls on their desperations rounds were basically flinging pussy at him. I rolled my eyes at the thought. I’ll never understand girls who try so hard to land a man. I don’t think I’ve ever actively pursued a guy before and I get laid all the time. I think they over complicate things by baking cookies and keeping their legs closed until its “Facebook official”. If what you can do with what you’ve got going when you spread your legs is enough to make his eyes roll back in his head he’ll always come back for more. Then again, those girls are looking for husbands and lovers. I’m looking for the best way to itch a scratch. 

I sit down at my spot and pull out my pill case. I grabbed one of the orange pills and split it in half, putting one half back in the case, and setting the other on my computer track pad. A key to a successful all nighter is to properly space your drug intake, so three hours after a full 30 mg, I always take a half of one. To keep the buzz alive so to speak. I fumble through my backpack to retrieve my water bottle and sit up to take my medicine. 

The tall figure of Peeta stands in front of me, donning a backpack and a sweatshirt, grinning at me. he motions exaggeratedly to the empty chair across form me and I nod. I can’t believe he actually showed up. After he is settled he looks pointedly at the pill I have yet to take so I finally swallow it in response. He smiles at me as some of his hair falls in his eyes and I have to force myself to look away. The reaction he is causing in me is not something I fucking like, so I decide to ignore him. He soon proves that to be an impossibility however. 

I ‘m making fair progress on the intro for my paper when a piece of paper appears magically under my face. I look up questioningly at my “study partner” who once again has the same amusement in his eyes. I scowl at him and unfold the paper. 

Thanks for telling me about this place. You’re right, it’s much quieter. Dare I ask what you’re working on?

I sigh. I never passed notes in high school because I never understood what someone could have to say that as so important it couldn’t wait until the bell rang. But I guess this was Peeta’s way of observing the silence on the floor, so I quickly jotted down a reply. 

A paper for my poetry class, about an ancient belief that transcended time and therefore literature. And it’s no big deal. Thanks for not talking or being annoying. 

I slid the paper back to him and watched his amused expression turn thoughtful. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone with such an expressive face before. He looked up at me and caught me staring, and as he slid the paper back a cocky grin took over his face.

So something like “eternal love” I’m guessing based off your book? And it’s a struggle to keep quiet but if it makes you happy I won’t ever speak again.

I couldn’t help the small smile on my face as I shook my head jokingly at his contribution to this conversation. 

Actually I chose to talk about “soul mates” or our other halves. My teacher is a sap so she loves that kind of shit. Easy A. And if that’s a promise you may be my new best friend. 

I slide it back to him and don’t make any pretenses of continuing my work. He has somehow won himself my full and undivided attention, which is usually a hard thing to accomplish. One time during sex with Gale I ordered a pizza. 

Ah, not a believer in soul mates are we Miss. Katniss? And I will gladly become your mute best friend if it means I can continue to study at your table. 

At this point we had both abandoned our work, but I planned on being here until the sun rose so I could waste some time. I gave him my response. 

It’s Miss. Everdeen. And no, I don’t believe in that kind of mythical fairytale nonsense. Am I to understand you do Mr. Peeta? And you are more than welcome at my table….. if you can handle it. 

I slid the paper back to him and smirked. I was starting to understand the deal with passing notes. 

Katniss Everdeen. Nice name. I’m Peeta Mellark. I think you’d be surprised at what I can handle. And yes I do happen to believe in that nonsense. Also it’s worth noting that I still believe in Santa Clause. 

I looked up at him and he playfully winked at me. I folded our conversation up and stuck it in my binder, leaning forward to where he was.

“Nice to meet you Peeta Mellark.” I whispered as quietly as I could. He smelled like laundry and cinnamon. “Now tell me, when you aren’t studying, do you like to drink?”


	3. Chapter 3

There are certain moments in someone’s life when something happens and in a few moments everything they’ve ever known shifts. My dad always used to tell me the type of person you are is determined by how you deal with those moments. But then he died.

He would hate the type of person I became because of it.

Sometimes I wonder if these are the type of thoughts that run through the heads of my peers, as they get ready for a night on the town. I doubt it. They probably think about how much fun they’re going to have, or get excited about the stories they’ll get from a night of adolescent craziness. They pregame together so as to keep an even keel of intoxication, throwing their inhibitions to the wind together, as if that makes it ok. I prefer drinking alone, so that way I can deal with being subjected to people’s inane conversations and life troubles. Personally I don’t think someone wearing the same outfit as me would even register on my radar, but then again I never really got a chance at being a normal “frivolous” girl. My issues run far deeper. 

As I stand in front of my floor length mirror I do something I almost never do. I scrutinize. I’m wearing a simple skintight black dress, and a pair of black gladiator sandals. I have make up on, which almost never happens, and my hair is down instead of in a braid. I’ve been ready for over 30 minutes, but for some reason I keep on double-checking my appearance to see if I somehow have magically become beautiful. For someone as hyper self aware of herself as I am, I cannot figure out why I’m acting this way. Actually that’s a lie. I figured it out; I just don’t want to admit it. My reasoning for looking like an actual human being is the same reasoning I actually accepted Delly’s invitation to come over and go out. I just don’t like the reason so I’m ignoring it. 

I go to sit on my bed and sip my whiskey and coke slowly. I want to text Delly and Madge and tell them I’ve changed my mind, but I can’t. The prospect of what this night holds has me fucking spellbound. 

It’s been two weeks since I met my unofficial new “study partner” Peeta Mellark. He has somehow wormed his way into my life and my thoughts and to be honest it fucking confuses the hell out of me, which in turn pisses me off. I don’t’ “let things” happen. I shut people out unless they have a use – Madge keeps me alive and has known me since we were four so she never asks me “what’s wrong”, she already knows; and Gale keeps me in dick and weed. I can’t see a use for Peeta. But I can’t shut him out either. I don’t go out of my way to talk to him, just an occasional heads up for when I’m planning to study. He always shows up. When I saw him leaving Delly’s the other day I was almost afraid he was stalking me, but he told me they were childhood friends. The only place I’m safe from him is at Gale’s, but even then – and at the most inopportune moments – he sneaks into my mind. I’m caught between intrigue and hatred for Peeta Mellark, and it fucking terrifies me. 

The sound of someone knocking on my door yanks me out of my thoughts. I call out to tell whoever it is I’ll be there in a minute, and I take the time to dip my cigarettes into the small bag of cocaine Gale gave me yesterday, before deciding to just bring the whole thing with me. Cocaine is the only drug that scares me, due mostly to the fact that I like it entirely too much. I reach in a rub some around my gums, before draining my drink and finally answering the door. 

Madge eyes me up and down in shock before walking in without a greeting. 

“Hello to you too.” I mumble, closing the door behind her. She has bags in her hand and fishes around in one before extracting two beers and handing one to me. She settles herself on my counter and I lean on the one opposite of her perch. 

“So what’s with the get up?” her blue eyes are amused, because she already knows, but the bitch wants me to tell her it’s because of Peeta out loud. 

“No reason. Just have to remind everyone I’m hot shit every once in a while.” She rolls her eyes, but I won’t give her the satisfaction of hearing that I’m hoping to impress a certain blonde man. Also saying it out loud would mean I’d have to admit it to myself and I’m entirely too sober for that shit. 

“What ever you say Kat.” She sips on her beer while I pound mine. I’ve never been one to “enjoy the taste” of booze. If I could inject alcohol intravenously I would probably never drink it again. Madge sighs when I pull a liquor bottles from my cabinet. 

“How many deep are you?” Madge is the only person alive who knows why I am the way I am, and it’s no secret she doesn’t like how I act because of it. But she knows better than to try and stop it. 

“Not nearly enough. That’s how many.” I pull out a to-go cup and fill it to the brim. As nice as Delly is, I’m assuming she’s a vodka girl, and I’d rather snort arsenic than drink that shit, so I’m going to walk next door to go cup in hand. I inform Madge of this as well, and after another eye roll she hops off the counter.

“When we’re not in college anymore Everdeen, people are going to think you have a problem instead of saying you’re a legend.” 

“Well then they’d finally be right about something.” Madge sighs deeply at my response, knowing I fully embrace my issues because they help me to run from the real ones, which is why she doesn’t try and stop me. It’s when I stop running that the real shit show begins, and neither of us wants to relive that again. 

Delly throws the door open before we even get a chance to knock, with so much gusto and bubbly energy that I immediately wish I had taken a xanax. Or 12. She’s talking a mile a minute as she pulls me into a hug, and I watch as Madge escapes to the kitchen under the pretense of “finding the fridge”, leaving me all alone with Delly. If looks could kill the one Madge is currently receiving from me would fucking behead her. 

“Katniss you look amazing! Seriously, how can I get a body like that?” Delly is gushing and I hate it but before I have a chance to sarcastically reply, Madge, who has reappeared, does it for me all while shooting me a warning look. Play nice.

“Delly if you manage to get that secret out of her, I’ll pay your rent for the next two years! I’ve known her since we were four and she’s never even told me!” Madge is sometimes my saving grace, because my answer of “Well drugs help” would have probably made this pregame a little awkward. With Delly occupied I pluck a straw off the table and plunge it into my cup, before walking over to the balcony, where I can see Gale through the window. I step through the door and slid it shut, and he offers me a lighter for my cigarette. 

“Het Catnip. Looking good.” I roll my eyes at him.

“If everyone is going to make a big deal when I dress up I’m never doing it again.” He laughs before looking around him wildly. I understand immediately. “So Glimmer’s here I take it.” 

“Yeah she’s inside with one of the many other blondes. One of her friends that she’s staying with is in Delly’s sorority I guess.” I can’t help the snort his words illicit from me. Glimmer never stays nights with Gale because it would be “improper” and we’ve learned to take advantage of her prudishness. We don’t risk it by going to his place, but you’d be surprised just how hot rushed car sex can be.

“That reminds me. You owe me because getting the cum stains out of my backseat wasn’t the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” I playfully whisper at him, and this time it’s Gale snorting at my words.

“Oh I’ll repay you for your troubles, don’t worry.” We spend the rest of our time in silence, but between Gale and I silence has always been comfortable. I try to ignore the way his eyes are lingering on me the way they’ve taken to doing the past few weeks, by sipping my drink, when the door is thrown open behind me by Madge, who has a positively mischievous look in her eyes. 

“Katniss there’s a man here asking about you.” I can feel my cheeks burn, as well as the hard stare Gale has turned on me. I turn around to say something extremely rude to my best friend, when I see Peeta standing in the living room, eyes on me, and somehow once again he has my full attention.

Definitely should have taken a xanax. 

Like I originally guessed, Peeta’s affect on women is impressive. The girls in Delly’s sorority are eye fucking him up and down while they whisper and giggle in each other’s ears. He does look good. How he manages to look like a model in a simple black button up and jeans is beyond me but once again I’m overwhelmed with a desire to see him naked. I’m completely unaware of how long we’ve been staring at each other until Madge nudges my elbow. Shit. I must have completely missed everything she said.

“Huh?” Madge snorts and Delly giggles.

“So you know Peeta already?” Delly is enjoying this. I am not.

“Their eye fucking didn’t give it away Dell? Katniss didn’t get dressed up like that for Gale that’s for sure.” I shoot Madge a look while Gale noticeably shifts in demeanor, sizing Peeta up while doing so. Madge doesn’t care for our “non-relationship” and insists Gale has feelings for me, but proving her point at Peeta’s expense grates on my nerves for some reason I can’t really pinpoint. 

“Oh my God. You’re the library girl aren’t you?” Delly is literally gushing but my attention is caught by what she has to say. I turn to her, abandoning mine and Peeta’s “eye fucking.” 

“He told you about me?” Delly and Madge share a look, one of those looks I don’t understand but the majority of girls do. Delly’s lips are pursed into a smirk, and her eyebrows raised, but before she responds we’re interrupted by a deep voice.

“Only good things I promise.” I whirl around to see Peeta standing behind me, wearing what I’m learning is a trademark smirk. Before I can respond Delly is on him, hugging him and talking like if she doesn’t she’ll die, but even as he answers her, his gaze never leaves mine. I can feel Gale and Madge on either side of me, Madge beaming, Gale fuming. This pregame certainly got interesting very quickly. I can’t understand how one person can have such an effect on everyone in a an entire room ….. or why he is mouthing the word “cigarette” at me. I nod and head outside, knowing full well he’ll follow, as well every set of horny eyes in the room. I may not care for any of the girls currently in Delly’s apartment – Madge and Delly aside – but I don’t necessarily want them to all notice me. I pride myself on being so painfully ordinary I could fade away. Not tonight apparently. Not around Peeta Mellark. 

Peeta closes the door behind him, and quiet instantly overtakes us. He pulls out two cigarettes, lighting them together, and hands one to me, a grin on his face.

“Sorry if Delly embarrassed you, she’s just overly animated. Has been since we were kids.” He pushes his hair out of his face and takes a seat, so I do the same.

“I’ve lived next to her for two years. Believe me, I’ve noticed.” I take a drag of my cigarette and try to not focus on how his shirt hugs him in all the right places. I hope to God Gale can get away from Glimmer tonight because I am going to need to get fucked. Hard.

“Ah so you’re the neighbor who gives her weed brownies. The first time she told me I assumed you were some guy trying to get laid but I’m going to have to rethink all the stories she’s told me. Unless you are actually bringing her weed brownies to get laid. In which case I’m going to dream about all the stores she’s told me.” Peeta takes a drag of his cigarette and waggles his eyebrows at me. I take a long sip of my drink and will away my blush.

“Sorry to disappoint but unless Delly is the most beautiful Transvestite alive, there were no sexual pretenses to the brownies. More “Thank yous” for keeping me alive. You’re a fucking pervert you know that?” Peeta full out laughs at this and I can’t help but to join him. He nods at my drink when he’s calmed down and I hand it to him. He takes a long sip and his face scrunches up, making it my turn to laugh.

“Holy fuck is that straight whiskey?” He sticks out his tongue and closes his eyes trying to get over his shock.

“Yeah it is you big pussy. Too strong for you?” I clench the straw between my teeth and drink from it like a toddler sipping apple juice. 

“No I was just expecting something else, especially since all I saw in there was vodka and beer.” I snort. Totally knew Delly would be a vodka girl.

“Not a big fan of clear liquor. So I came prepared.” He chuckles as he eyes my to-go cup and stamps out his cigarette.

“Is there any way I can convince you to share?” I nod at him and he holds his hand out to me. I take it and he helps me up, and when he lets go I find myself wishing he hadn’t. 

“Yeah we just have to go next door to my place.” 

“Lead the way oh giver of whiskey.” I smirk at him and make a beeline to the door of Delly’s, purposefully avoiding all eye contact. I have a reputation, and taking Peeta back to my place this early in the night is just confirming it in the minds of everyone watching. What they don’t’ know is if I had really managed to land Peeta in 30 minutes I’m pretty sure we would be fucking on the balcony in full view of the entire party because damn he is hot. Also I would have expected a trophy after. And congratulatory high fives. The only stare that bothers me is the one coming from Gale, which I can feel burning into the back of my head, but I decide to ignore it for now. 

Once inside my apartment, I indicate to him where the glasses are, and after he retrieves one, I open my liquor cabinet. His eyes go wide.   
“That’s quite the collection you have.” My cheeks burn.

“Yeah what can I say? I like good liquor.” He laughs as he pulls out a bottle of Evan Williams.

“Your definition of good is a lot different from mine apparently.” I laugh and shove past him, reaching into the cabinet to pull out a bottle of Jim Beam. I pull back and am made very aware of how close our bodies are. I can smell him, a mixture of his cologne and cinnamon. 

“Is this better?” My voice is low and little huskier than I’d like. I might as well be wearing a sign that says “If you were to fuck me dirty on the counter right now I’d be ok with it.” He smiles at me and moves his face in closer, putting his lips close to my ear.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I want.” He pulls away, taking the bottle as he goes, and I can’t move. I have to physically collect myself and calm my heart beat. I need something to calm me down, otherwise I’m going to make an ass out of myself tonight once I’m drunk, but for some reason I care about what this strange man would think of me if I ran off to my room to down some bars. So I don’t. he finishes pouring his drink and begins to meander around my apartment. It’s sparsely decorated; a couch, an armchair, a coffee table, and a TV stand the only furniture. A yoga mat sits in the corner, with an incense holder, and my DVD collection sits piled in another. Peeta bends down and begins to shuffle through the cases as I watch cautiously from the entryway before making my way over to him and perching on the arm of the couch. 

“You have an interesting taste in movies. Big Scorsese fan?” He holds up my cop of The Departed. 

“Yeah I guess. I’d rather watch an action movie with a good story line over a romantic comedy I guess.” He laughs.

“Of course you would.” He continues his search, stopping when he reaches my collection of Disney DVDs. “That’s an impressive Disney collection.” I gulp and the words are spilling out of me in a whisper before I can stop them.

“Those were my sisters actually.” I can feel my stomach churning and I’m aware that I’m picking at the fabric on the couch’s armchair with a vengeance. Out of the corner of my eye I see Peeta appraise the situation, smartly deciding to not push me. 

“Alright. Which one of these is your favorite?” I’m so grateful for the change in conversation that I answer him truthfully. 

“The Quiet Man actually.” He grins at me.

“Mine’s The Philadelphia Story in case you were wondering. But John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara are a good choice I guess. Next time I come over we’ll have to watch it.” And with that he walks away towards my room. Did he just invite himself over for a movie date? I’m sitting on the arm of the couch still, watching as he walks into my room as if he’s been here hundreds of times, when it finally registers on me that Peeta is in my room. I nearly trip over my feet trying to get to him before he flips on the lights, but of course I’m too late.

For the lack of personality the rest of my apartment has, my room ahs double. It’s my escape, my oasis. There are weeks when I don’t leave it, and don’t make an effort to. My bed is covered in blankets, most hand-made, my bookshelf is crammed to the brim with all the books I’ve ever owned, my desk littered with my cd’s and school supplies. My walls are adorned with old record covers, all the records stacked in the corner next to my dad’s old turntable. A shelf above my dresser holds my bongs, pipes, and impressive shot glass collection. Peeta looks around and grins at me as he takes his time inspecting every element. He stops at the bongs and raises his eyebrows at me. 

“Do you smoke out of these or just decorate with them?” 

“You mean those aren’t vases?” I feign ignorance and he bursts out laughing as he continues looking around. He stands at my bookcase, and pulls out my volume of Edgar Allen Poe stories, before tucking it under his arm and flopping down unceremoniously on my bed. He sips his drink as he thumbs through the pages, and I feel so out of place in my own room, and he looks so at home it’s unnerving. I’m trying to figure out the least rude way to ask him to get the fuck out when he speaks.

“You know, I hated in high school how they would harp on and on about The Raven or The Tell Tale Heart and never mention any of his other works.” I feel myself drawn into his choice of conversation like a moth to a flame, and find myself jointing him on the bed, resting my back next to him on the headboard. 

“And what would you rather them teach Mr. Mellark?” He’s thoughtful for a moment.

“I understand why those stories are important, I do. But did you know The Murders in Rue Morgue inspired a bit of Sherlock Holmes? I would have eaten that shit up in lit class in high school. To know how intrinsically connected most writing is.” He runs his hands through his hair. “Do you know what I’m saying?” I nod my head, taking the book from his hands.

“I do. And I love The Murders of Rue Morgue by the way. And MS. Found in a Bottle? I used to fucking read that shit obsessively.” I find the story I mentioned last and it isn’t until I hear my voice that I realize I’m reading out loud. 

“Of my country and my family I have little to say. Ill usage and length of years have driven from the one, estranged me from the other.” When I do catch myself reading I stop and close the book before taking a long drink. 

“I can see why that story is your favorite.” Peeta’s eyes are closed and one of his hands is on my knee, his thumb moving methodically back and forth.

“Why’s that?” My voice is almost a whisper, and I’m afraid he can hear my heart beating. He opens his eyes, and his blue blazes into my own grey. 

“Being able to be a part of the past, with no one noticing or caring that you’ve disappeared.” My face is inches from him as I answer in a whisper. 

“And what makes you think that’s why it’s my favorite?”

“Because I know you better than you’d like to think. You want to be in the past without the painful memories or haunting dreams. But I won’t tell anyone. That’s all I’ve ever wanted too.” He reaches around and runs a hand up my forearm, resting his forehead against my own. My eyes close and my breathing quickens.

“Katniss……” He whispers my name and I pull back to look in his eyes. He begins to speak again, and I’m dying in anticipation of whatever he is about to say, when a door flinging open startles me. Our moment has been interrupted.

By a very drunk and very pissed off looking Gale.


	4. Chapter 4

I am shocked still. My instinct is to jump off the bed and away from Peeta, and put my body in between him and Gale. I’m overwhelmed with a need to protect him because drunk and pissed off Gale can get violent, and overly protective of things that aren’t his. But Peeta has an arm over me, holding me down. Peeta is protecting me. I turn to him, and he looks very very pissed off. His jaw is set, his body tense, and I realize that he thinks it’s because Gale is a threat to me. When he looks at me I briefly mouth the word sorry to him, but continue to cling to his arm. He is keeping me anchored. 

“Gale what the fuck are you doing?” He is literally seething, and Madge appears behind him, her eyes wide. 

“What am I doing? What are you fucking doing Katniss?” I can feel anger rolling off of both the men in this room. When did this become my life? 

“I’m hanging out with Peeta. In my apartment, where you just fucking barged in.” I turn my attention to Madge. “How did he get this drunk? Where’s Glimmer?” Madge looks between Gale and I.

“Glimmer left.” 

“Why?”

“Because of how Gale started acting when you and Peeta came over here.” 

I clinch Peeta’s arm more tightly, and he shifts so his body is in front of mine, pulling my legs around to his other side. I’m normally not ok with a man feeling a need to protect me, but right now I’m afraid that whatever is happening with Gale is going to shift Peeta’s perspective of me. So I let it happen.

“And how did Gale start acting?” Peeta’s voice is even, but there’s a definite hint of menace lacing his words. Gale basically growls at him.

“What? You bring her back here to fuck her man? Get her drunk and get what you wanted?” Peeta flinches, and I touch his back. I want this to all go away, I want to crawl into my closet and shut the fucking worlds out.

“No. That’s not the kind of guy I am.”

“Well that’s exactly the type of girl Katniss is.” Gale sneers, and it’s my turn to flinch. I look to Madge, and the fear that’s in her eyes tells me she can see; she how close to the edge this is pushing me. Peeta notices her look as well, and turns to me; but I’m already shutting down. My eyes are filling with tears and the fear boiling inside of me is almost too much to handle. Peeta’s eyes don’t leave my face as he responds to Gale.

“Maybe that’s who she is with you, but that’s not who she is.” I pull my knees into my chest, my fight or flight responses shutting down. This is too much, it’s too much like what happened before. Gale is shouting now. 

“Who the fuck are you man? Katniss who is this dude? Are you fucking him too? Do you fuck me in the morning and him at night?” 

I hear Madge, but my eyes never leave Peeta’s. I’m trying to focus on my breathing, to keep from slipping away. He is tapping a finger on my calf. He knows what I’m doing.

He’s trying to help.

“Gale. Go. Now.” Madge sounds stern and angry. She never gets mad unless it’s about me, unless someone is hurting me or I’m hurting myself. Gale must turn to leave, but I hear him say something along the lines of “fucking whore” before a door slams. Peeta never stops his rhythmic tapping, and eventually I fall asleep, folding under the stress of it all. 

 

Peeta

Katniss falls asleep in my arms after Gale leaves. I’ve only known this girl for two weeks, but she has a hold over me I can’t explain. The first time I saw her, clad in sweats in 90 degree weather, smoking her cigarette like it was a lifeline, I was absolutely mesmerized. The fact that she didn’t immediately return my fascination only made me want her more. Not want her like in an easy lay sort of way. Honestly I’ve never had problems with that, good genes I guess. But the moment she smiled at me for the first time it was like winning the lottery or some other corny metaphor. It’s weird and I don’t understand it, but really while she’s here in my arms, I don’t need to. 

Madge returns after kicking Gale out and motions for me to join her. I do so reluctantly, closing the door to Katniss’ bedroom behind me as I follow Madge out onto the balcony. Once the door is shut behind us, she sits, her head in her hands, trembling. I pat her back, and she looks up at me with sad and tired eyes.

“Peeta, I’m Madge. I think it’s time was have a talk about Katniss.”

I was 7 the first time my mom really hit me. not with a spoon, or a belt, but with her fists. I had accidently dropped a plate, and like that, it was as if the flood gates had opened. 

When I was 10, I was five minutes late for curfew after a game of hide and seek. My mother had been making pasta on the stove top and she hit me with the spoon she was using. It burned me, above my ear. It’s why I wear my hair long. 

There were little instances like that. Where things would go from bad to worse. For the great men my dad and brothers are, they never defended me against her, but she wasn’t beating the crap out of them so I guess a blind eye was easier. She would pick at my insecurities mercilessly, and by the time I reached high school I was a mess. 

One day during gym, a kid hit me, and I lost it. Beat him within an inch of his life. I spent the next six months in juvie. Luckily for me, a mental therapist took the time to help me. I’m not a violent guy. Not at all. I just have triggers that can turn me into one thanks to years of abuse. It’s why I transferred schools. A guy who was drunk at a bar at my last school shoved me. I hit him so hard I knocked him out and then I hit a wall until I broke my hand. I took a semester off and stayed at a mental rehab place before coming here. 

I had decided to stay away from everyone and everything here until I met Katniss. It was like my will power was gone, but being around her didn’t’ make me feel weak or like a monster. It made me feel like I could be stronger. When I didn’t kill Gale for the things he had said to her, about her, I was honestly surprised. But I realized when she touched my arm, or my back, how calm I felt. When she started to slip away I felt helpless, and now sitting with Madge I can tell Katniss is maybe as fucked up as I am. So I tell her okay, I’m ready to listen to what she has to say. 

She runs her hand through her blonde hair and looks vacantly off into the distance.

“I’ve known Katniss since I was 4 years old. She was the smartest and funniest kid, and we were both kind of shy, so we clicked. I spent a lot of time with her family. Her dad was this great guy, he would sing and play the piano and Katniss, her little sister and I would dance along.” She begins to rub her eyes as she pauses, and looks over to me. “Look. This isn’t really my place to tell you this, and I’ve never told another living soul what I’m about to tell you, but she’s been slipping away for the past few months, and in the short time you’ve known her you’ve really made an impact okay? So as much as I hate myself for telling you, I know she won’t be mad at me, and if it get’s worse I’m going to need help.” I nod at her, and she sighs.

“When we were 14, Katniss had something horrible happen. It changed her. Hell, it changed me, but she dealt with it the beset she could. Therapy, meds. She wasn’t better but she was trying to learn how to be. Then, one night, while she was at therapy, and her mom was grocery shopping, a man broke into her house, killing her dad and her sister before robbing the place. It was awful. They never caught him, and the Katniss that I knew was gone. Our senior year of high school, after a few years of partying and whatever drugs she was doing, she overdosed on roxies. She swore it was an accident but I know it wasn’t. it freaked me out so much that she would leave me that she started her meds and her therapy again, because if there’s one thing you should know about her, it’s that if she loves you, she’ll do anything and everything in her power to make herself better for you. But it’s wearing on her. And I’m not reason enough by myself anymore.” It’s quiet for a minute as I try to take in everything I was just told.

“Madge why did you tell me all of that?” If my drive to protect Katniss after only knowing her a few weeks wasn’t insane before, it sure as hell was now. Madge laughed a grim laugh.

“I know that girl better than I know myself. And I’m not an idiot. You look at her like she shits gold. She’s going to take time and patience to understand what she feels about you. Can you be patient?” I nod and swallow thickly. “That’s why I’m telling you. Because if she lets her guard down and falls for you, you will be the luckiest man alive. But don’t rush her and don’t push her because then we’ll all lose her. And I’ll fucking kill you if that happens.” 

“Duly noted.” We sit in silence a few more minutes before I speak again. “Am I really that transparent about how I feel about her? “ 

Madge laughs at my question. 

“To everyone but her.” 

 

Katniss

I wake up in a cold sweat. The nightmares have started again. Fucking awesome. They’ve gotten progressively worse over the years, darker, more real, more violent. Usually a really bad one happens when I’ve let shit hit the fan, or I’ve lost control. When I first realized the correlation I wouldn’t’ sleep for days. I would shove anything down my throat that would stave off sleep – coffee, energy drinks, adderall, cocaine; literally anything I thought would keep me awake and out of the dreams. 

After two days of no sleep I would start shaking. After three, I would start hallucinating, trapped in what was basically a bad drug trip. When I would finally fall asleep I would be trapped in daylong nightmares, more vivid, and more realistic than what I had been trying to fight off in the first place. It’s like once the depravity has a little more space in my mind, it roots itself in, latches on, until something happens where it can gain more a my mind. The dreams are never good. I doubt they ever will be again. Last night’s was awful.

I was standing in a room, blood covering the floor up to my hips, lapping against my stomach. I slipped and fell and felt something rise around me. Bodies. Horribly mutilated bodies of everyone I love, of every I’ve ever loved. My dad, my sister, Madge, Gale, even Peeta. I was screaming, crying, trying to figure out who was responsible, when I noticed a crazed looking psychopath looking at me through a window. Only it wasn’t a window. It was a mirror. It was me. I was the reason they were all dead. 

The dream keeps replaying in my mind and I have to run to my trashcan to vomit. I strip out of last nights clothes and hastily take a handful of pills, not even sure what they are before crawling under the blankets on my bed and begging my mind to just shut the fuck up. How do I always end up here? 

As I feel my limbs start to go numb from the drugs and slip into sleep, I’m vaguely aware for the first time in a while how badly I hope that I don’t wake up. 

 

I live like this for I don’t know how long. My phone says three days but it feels like weeks. Whenever you wish time would heal your wounds, it goes slower, at least in my experience it does. On the fourth morning I wake up to Madge rifling through my drawers. I watch her through clouded and hazy eyes until she sits down on my bed. She looks tired, and like she’s been crying. Because of me. I lean over and vomit into the trashcan, and Madge holds my hair. I’m dry heaving at this point, my lips so chapped they are bleeding. I don’t care. When I’m done, Madge lays down next to me so we are eye level and she sighs.

“You’re going to hate me but I’m taking your drugs and liquor. Not forever, just until this is over. I know you can’t help it, but I’m too afraid to leave you alone like this with our own pharmacy tucked away.” 

“Good. Thank you.” My voice sounds awful, due to lack of use, lack of water, too much vomiting, and too much screaming. 

“I should have done something earlier. I could tell it was getting bad again.” Her voice is quiet. She’s blaming herself for my current state of mind and it burns straight down into my soul. 

“This isn’t your fault Madge.” She looks unconvinced, so I gather the little energy I have and take a deep breath. “Gale yelling at me. so pissed off, so mean…. It reminded me of him. I was there again. The things I let Gale do to me, that I tell him to do to me, you’d think I’d be able to handle him yelling at me like that. I guess not.” 

Madge’s face is serious, and she closes her eyes.

“Katniss. Gale was pissed but he would never….. he would never rape you.” 

I cringe. I replay that night from my past almost weekly. Every time I walk up the stairs to my apartment at night. Every time I hear a drunken yell outside my window. Every time I walk to my car after a night class. But hearing the word, calling it was it was – it makes it more real. More undeniable. 

“I know. At least I think I know that. But at the same time I never thought my neighbor would either.” I shut my eyes. Madge hasn’t brought this up in years and neither have I. I haven’t talked about it in as long. I feel a cold hand on my cheek and I open my eyes, looking back at Madge.

“Cray is in jail. He’s not coming out for a fucking long time.” I nod, but logic doesn’t really play a part in my fears anymore. If there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that nothing is sacred, and no one is safe. 

“If I asked you to talk to someone would you?” She asked me like she just asked me if she could kill my firstborn. Afraid of what I’ll say, afraid I’ll lash out. I’m the worst fucking person alive.

“I don’t even know where I would go.” I would though if I knew. For Madge. She pulls out her phone and starts to dial a number. 

“I know someone who does.” My interest is piqued. 

“Who?” I’m almost positive I’m her only friend who would ever need psychiatric help. She looks at me for a moment searching my face, phone pressed to her ear before responding.

“Peeta.”


	5. Chapter 5

“What?” There’s anger in my voice, my heart racing in fear and I quickly grab Madge’s phone from her ear hitting the “END” button. 

“Katniss what the hell?” I toss her phone across the room, and it thuds against the wall. 

“Why the fuck would you call Peeta to find a therapist for me?” I’m livid and I can tell Madge is annoyed. She sighs and I sit up pulling my knees into my chest. Holy shit I smell. 

Madge rests her head against the headboard and begins talking, purposefully not making eye contact with me. I can feel my chest tighten against the panic rising in my chest. Her body language is telling me I’m not going to like whatever she’s about to tell me. 

“The other night after you passed out, Peeta and I talked.” She’s taking her time. She only does this when she’s nervous about telling me something that could piss me off or send me into a tailspin. 

“About. What.” My voice is hard. I have a lot of displaced rage right now and I have a feeling it will soon belong to Madge. 

“He was freaked out about what had happened. He told me a little about himself which is why I know he knows a therapist and I ….. I told him a little about you.” Her voice trails off at the end, and I stop breathing. Madge has never breathed a word about me to anyone. Ever. I didn’t think she ever would. She’s looking at her hands, and by the tears pooling in her eyes, I can tell she never thought she would either. 

“I didn’t know what else to do okay? You’ve been out of it for the past few months. I mean do you even remember the last time you were sober? Because I don’t. And don’t tell me you’re fine because I’ve been here with you before and I know better.” 

The tears are flowing from her eyes and I’m torn between my anger and an overwhelming need to comfort. I’ve put Madge through so much fucked up shit. I’ve ruined her life because I’ve dragged her down with me. I think on what she’s said for a moment. Between the drugs and the booze I haven’t been solidly sober for months, at least. I take a few deep breaths to steady and remind myself to not be mad at Madge. She’s all I have left, and I can’t drive her away. 

“Has it been that obvious? I thought I was doing an okay job at hiding it.” Now I’m not looking at her, afraid of what she’ll tell me.

“Kat, its only ever obvious to me.” I smile a small smile and finally look at my best friend.

“That’s because you’re the only one who cares.” She looks over towards the phone and back at me.

“I think Peeta could care. If you let him.” I bring the bottoms of my palms up to my eyes and rub hard. The last thing I want to do right now is talk about how I could develop a “relationship” with a boy I’ve known for two weeks. 

“What did you tell him?” I’m afraid of her answer. There’s so much she could have told him, and I’m fucking terrified he’ll never look at me the same again. To say I’m “damaged goods” would be an understatement. I’m a hot fucking mess of a miserable human being. 

“Nothing too detailed. Nothing about Cray. Just enough to see if he can help.” She looks so earnest that I believe her. I lick my dry chapped lips and nod at her words.

“You can call him.” Madge grips my hands in her own and makes eye contact with me.

“Thank you.” I nod as tears fill my own eyes, and Madge scrambles over towards her phone. I leave my room and make a beeline for the shower, not wanting to hear the conversation about to take place in my room. I’m not a huge fan of therapy. My last therapist pitied me and my life story, but he thought that he could “fix” me. What he soon came to realize was that all of his suggestions of joining a support group, going to church, making amends with my mother and other nonsense was falling on deaf ears. So, like most people in my life, he gave up on me. 

I stand in the scalding hot shower motionlessly, letting the water beat down on me, turning my skin red. Sometimes I like to imagine a shower like this after one of my benders can clean me right down to my soul, and erase everything that’s ever happened, affording me a new start. However a shower is just a shower and my life and past will always be awful no matter how clean my skin is. 

I stand under the water until it begins to run cold, sighing as I turn off the stream. I wrap myself in a huge towel, brush my teeth and braid my hair, before walking out into my room. Madge is changing the sheets on my bed and I wordlessly pull on a pair of sweats. I settle myself in my desk chair and watch her clean, waiting for whatever she had to tell me.

Once she is satisfied that my room is clean she reaches a hand out to me and gives me half a xanax, pointing towards a glass of water on my desk. I take the pill and drain the water under her watchful eye, and then eat the apple she had set next to the glass. Once I’m finished Madge sits on the bed and begins.

“Peeta said there’s a man who he trusts that he thinks you’ll like. He said if you want, they grab coffee once a week and you could tag along to test the waters.” I swallow and pick at the skin on my thumbs.

“Yeah. That sounds okay.” 

“Good. Well get changed because he’ll be here to pick you up in 30 minutes.” I snap my head up as my eyes bore into Madge’s face, which she is currently facing anywhere but at me, in an attempt to hide her amusement. Tricky bitch.

“You’re the fucking worst Madge.” She grins openly at me, the mischievous glint back in her eyes.

“Want me to find that hot little dress from the other night? I’m pretty sure Peeta would love to see that again.” I throw my apple core at her and she shrieks, before dissolving into laughter.

“Shut the fuck up asshole.” I scowl at her as she continues to laugh. After she collects herself, she walks over and throws the core away.

“But seriously. Please change out of the sweats. And put on a fucking bra.” And like that the heavy part of our day has been lifted. Madge has always been good at relieving the tension, and I’ve become acutely aware that she has no idea what is means for me. I stand up to change, and quickly pull her into a tight hug. She makes a small sound of surprise before wrapping her arms around me. 

“Thanks.” I mumble. It’s such a hard word to say when you’re trying to convey so much with it. Madge pulls back, smiles at me, her eyes glistening, and pats my cheek. 

“I’m leaving some of your meds and one bottle of whisky. Also you’re taking me to dinner this weekend.” I laugh at her demand but nod my head.

“Yes ma’am.” 

“Good. Now go and get dressed.” I smile, rolling my eyes and doing as I’m told.

I change into a pair of jeans, a simple pale blue shirt, and a pair of flip-flops. When I walk out into the living room Madge gives me a once over and purses her lips.

“What?” I throw my hands up defensively. 

“You don’t own a nice summer dress?” one of her eyebrows is cocked and I groan.

“No I don’t have a fucking summer dress. I don’t even know what the hell that is. Is it different from a winter dress? Should I invest in a spring dress?” 

“You’re lucky you’re pretty Katniss because you have absolutely no fashion sense.” 

This time I roll my eyes at her. I’m about to respond when there’s a knock on my door. Butterflies instantly fill my stomach and I look at Madge pleadingly. She scoffs at me before returning her attention to her magazine. 

“I don’t live here. Be a big girl and answer the door.” I flick her off, grab my purse and head to the door to see Peeta. I feel like I’m going to puke. What is this fucking hold he has over me? Will he be weird around me now that he knows I’m fucked up? Will he treat me like glass? Hundreds of nagging questions and fears flood my mind as my hand turns the door knob. When I see him standing in front of me, smiling that smile however, all the questions stop.

“Hey.” 

“Hey back. Ready to go?” I nod at him and walk out of my apartment, closing the door behind me. 

“Lead the way.” Peeta smiles at me and begins to trek towards the stairs, and I follow behind him, trying to remind myself of how to breathe. 

 

The car ride is uneventful. Peeta keeps conversation light and I try my best to not be awkward. He is telling me something about a movie he watched last night when I feel the pressure in my mind and chest boil to the surface.

“I’m really sorry about the other night. You don’t have to pretend like it didn’t happen, I understand if it weirded you out.” I blurt it out quickly, and look straight forward as Peeta falls silent. I feel a hand on my arm and I turn to look at him. His blue eyes are calm, and seemingly full of understanding rather than pity. I’m not projecting at all. 

“Katniss what happened didn’t weird me out or scare me. we may not know each other that well but you should never think that something you can’t help will push me away. Especially not something I understand myself.” I smile at him before my eyes drift to his hand on my arm. He gives it a squeeze before removing it. 

“Madge told me she told you…… some things.” This time I watch his face for a reaction. A small blush hits his cheeks and he clenches his jaw. Now it’s him who won’t look at me.

“Don’t be too mad at her. She just told me a little to see if I could help.” We pull into a parking spot outside of the café and he turns to me. “But we don’t have to talk about it until you want to. Or until you trust me.” I nod and look at the front of the café suddenly nervous about what I agreed to.

“I hate therapists you know.” Peeta chuckles next to me. 

“No one likes them I don’t think. But this guy is a little different. He isn’t a fan of offices or bullshit. He can be a little brash and he drinks a lot but his advice is usually dead on.” I stare at Peeta, my mouth agape.

“You’re bringing me to an alcoholic therapist?” Peeta laughs, an eyebrow cocked as removes the keys from the ignition.

“He doesn’t drink while he’s working, don’t worry.” 

“That doesn’t easy my mind at all Peeta Mellark.” We are standing outside of the car now, and Peeta surprises me by placing an arm on either side of the passenger side door and leaning in towards me. my back is against the car and my heart is racing.

“And what exactly does ease it Katniss Everdeen?” his voice is low. He must know this is getting a rise out of me by the blush on my cheeks and the quickness of my breathing. I swallow audibly and try to regain my composure. Two can play this game goddamn it. I cock my head to the side and smile what Madge calls my “come and get it smile”, as I push myself off the car and place my mouth close to his ear.

“I would tell you but I doubt you can handle it.” I whisper dangerously close to his ear, feeling my own hot breath, and I pull back to look at him. Now who’s blushing? I smile.

“Don’t play games you can’t win Mr. Mellark.” I laugh and push him off the car by his shoulders as he tries to regain the ability to speak. I turn to walk twards the café and he catches up, holding the door for me, still looking bewildered. Flirting with Peeta like this is something I absolutely never do, but I find myself enjoying it more than I thought I would.

We take our seats after ordering our coffee, sharing quick amused glances and quiet laughs. After the third time I catch him looking at me I cock an eyebrow of my own.

“Oh my god. What?” I try to sound annoyed, and Peeta licks his lips as he leans forward.

“You have no idea do you?” 

“Peeta I am not in the mood for mind games. No idea about what?” 

“The effect you can have.” I find myself leaning into him as well. To say we have built up a sexually charged atmosphere is an understatement of it’s own. I bite my bottom lip. I could seriously jump him in front of this entire café and not give a fuck.

“If you two are going to fuck I would suggest not doing it in this coffee shop.” I shoot away from Peeta at the gruff voice behind us, while Peeta just sighs and rolls his eyes. 

“You’re an ass Haymitch.” The man just grunts before sitting down to join us. He’s older, with a beard and long hair pulled back into a pony tail. He’s wearing a button up shirt that is unbuttoned rather low and his ears are pierced. He looks like a hippy. Or a homeless person. He notices me looking him over.

“Like what you see Sweetheart?” I make a sound of disgust and look at Peeta.

“What the fuck are you getting me into? This guy looks like a fucking hobo.” Peeta looks in between Haymitch and I, but it is Haymitch who responds. 

“You’re sassy aren’t you?” he laughs at his own statement and I furrow my eyebrows. I do not like this man.

“You look like a fucking drowned rat.” Haymitch laughs even harder, slapping the table.

“Peet, I think I like this girl.” He claps Peeta’s shoulder and Peeta gives me an apologetic look. Haymitch leans back in his chair and takes a sip of his coffee.

“So Peeta here tells me you’re in the market for a good therapist. I can’t promise I’m a good one but I can promise I won’t push any bullshit new age techniques on you.’ He grins and I look between him and Peeta, sighing. What the hell right?

“Alright.” 

“Such enthusiasm. Peeta I hope that’s not how she is in bed.” Peeta and I both blush, and I feel a need to slap the “therapist” who obviously doesn’t give two fucks about professionalism. 

“Katniss and I are friends Haymitch. Stop being a dick.” Peeta turns to me. “He can actually be professional sometimes believe it or not.” I eye Haymith cautiously.

“I’ll have to see it to believe it.” Peeta smiles at me and gives my hand a quick squeeze before collecting our now empty coffee cups and heading to refill them. While he’s gone Haymitch falls quiet studying me, and I him. 

“So.” 

“So.” 

“Monday work for you? Around 5?” 

“Sure. Where at?” he looks thoughtful for a moment before deciding. 

“You know that park downtown? How about by the geese pond?” I sigh and shake my head before agreeing. 

“Sure.” Haymitch leans forward quickly.

“And sweetheart, I’m doing this as a favor for Lover Boy over there, so being defensive and surely won’t get us anywhere. Just keep that in mind.”

I nod at him in some sort of agreement which seems to satisfy him, and Peeta rejoins us shortly after.

Monday was sure going to be interesting. 

 

The rest of our coffee meeting had been uneventful, Peeta and Haymitch easily talking about sports, school, and nothing too deep. I suspect it was because I was there, but I am grateful it was a lighthearted affair. I’m not sure I can handle much more right now.

When we return to my apartment, Peeta insists on walking me to my door, and somehow wrangled an invite inside from me. I watch as he walks in confidently, plopping down on my couch where I eventually join him. After a few moments of silence Peeta speaks up.

“I didn’t really get a chance to say this the other night, but you looked good. You now. In that dress.” He is fidgeting which is different from his normally cocky demeanor so I laugh.

“Thanks. I would return the compliment but you pretty much always look good.” Shit. That was not what I wanted to say. At least not out loud. My cheeks are on fire, and the cocky grin returns to Peeta’s face, yet he remains’ silent. After a few moments of silence the sound of my stomach grumbling causes him to laugh and he stands up, offering me his hand. I look up at him questioningly. 

“Come on, I’m starving and apparently you are too. Let’s go.” I take his hand and he yanks me off the couch and towards the door.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see!” it’s hard to not get caught up in his boyish excitement so I stop asking questions and let him basically pull me to this car. As we drive I find myself studying him. Not his looks (I do that enough) but other things. There are scars all over his arms. He taps his fingers horribly off beat to the music playing on the radio. Small freckles dust his nose. Just 12 hours ago I was lying in bed with no desire to get up, and now I’m sitting in a car going god only knows where, and it’s because this boy has some undeniable pull over me. I can’t understand it. I never let people so easily into my life, but Peeta didn’t really ask to be invited. He just kind of barged in and assumed it was okay. What scares me the most is now that he’s here I don’t want him to leave, even if I don’t understand the capacity that he’s taken in my life. He catches me staring at him and smiles.

“What are you doing?” I blush but don’t stop staring.

“Trying to figure you out.” He laughs.

“And have you?” I scowl.

“Not in the slightest.” 

He turns his attention to the road, and we soon pull into a local food favorite that specializes in fried chicken. Peeta orders two boxes with extra fires, and instead of turning towards my apartment when we get our food; we take off in an entirely different direction. I don’t ask questions. He’s running this show and he bought me food so I’m interested to see what’s next on his agenda. 

We pull up in front of what looks to be an old abandoned house, covered in moss and greenery, after 20 minutes of driving. Peeta winks at me, taking our food and exiting the car. I follow him around to the back porch of the house, and sit next to him, leaning back against the wall. The house sits overlooking what I’m assuming is an old and forgotten retentions pond, and ducks swim around nonchalantly. It’s beautiful. 

“So what do you think?” Peeta is watching my face intently and I smile.

“This place is amazing. This is great. Really.” He must be able to tell I’m sincere because he grins, and accepting my answer digs into his food. I follow suit and we eat in silence, enjoying the quiet world around us.

“My dad owns a bakery and I grew up helping him. Sometimes I would get burnt on the ovens.” I look at Peeta quizzically. “I saw you looking. In the car.” I avert my eyes, embarrassed that he noticed. “It’s ok Katniss. It doesn’t bother me. Most people just straight up ask. They don’t understand that sometimes a scar is more than a scar.” 

He’s looking off into the distance and I furrow my brow. What does he know about scars? As if he can sense my disbelief, he continues. 

“Sometimes though…. My mom was a real bitch. She would hit me to keep me in line. So thanks for not asking. About the scars I mean. Because then I would have never been able to tell you.” I’m frozen. He’s still not looking at me.

 

“You don’t have to tell me Peeta. You don’t have to even our score just because Madge told you about me.” He turns to me then, and I expect him to be angry, but instead he just looks tired.

“That’s not why I told you. I want you to know. Know that I’m maybe just as messed up. That I get it. A lot of it. Maybe in a different way but I understand more than someone else could. And I’m fucking exhausted of keeping it all hidden from everyone. Of pretending that everything is so okay all the time. Aren’t you?” 

I don’t reply at first. The blonde man sitting next to me is practically a stranger, but every moment I spend with him I feel like I know him better than I’ve ever known anyone. All of my self-preservation instincts are telling me to run, to shut this shit down, but for some reason I can’t. 

And so I give in to his pull. 

I settle myself next to him and feel him put an arm around me, and I turn my face into this chest to breath him in, laying my head on his shoulder.

“Have you seen me? I can’t pretend worth shit. At least not anymore.” His grip around me tightens, his chin resting on my head.

“I won’t pretend around you if you won’t pretend around me.” 

“I’ll try.” I respond in a whisper. He kisses the top of my head and a warmth I’ve never felt spreads through me. 

“That’s all I ask.”


	6. Chapter 6

I hate how quickly it fucking happens. I hate how one day or moment can be good, fun maybe, enough to make you pause and wonder if maybe – just maybe – you’ve been spending all of your time wallowing in the melodramatics of nothing more than your own twisted mind; and life actually isn’t half as bad or nearly as fucking hard as you’ve tricked yourself into believing. I hate how these “good” days give you hope that maybe it’s over, maybe you’ll finally be a goddamn fucking normal human, a smile tugging at your lips, even tugging at your fucking soul; the hope overwhelming, but in a welcome way. I hate it because the moment that good day fucking comes you are setting yourself up to crash and burn so hard that there’s a chance this crash will be the last. Letting a good day happen means you’ve let down your fucking guard and given the demons in your mind something new to vilify and slice you open with.

So it’s no surprise that tonight, after spending a good day with Peeta, full of promises and secrets and fucking hope – my nightmare is about him. About losing him. Just like I’ve lost everyone else. I sit up in my bed so quickly I momentarily black out, and I can feel the shirt I’m sleeping in sticking to my sweaty body. Fuck. I pull my knees into my chest, stretching the shirt I’m wearing over them, before locking my fingers together behind my neck, laying my forehead on my knees. I begin taking deep breaths and rocking back and forth on my bed. I must look severely fucking deranged, which is true, but usually it’s not so blatantly obvious. The cotton of my shirt that’s stretching over my bony ass knees is wet and cold on my cheeks. Holy fuck. Am I crying? Over a dream about losing Peeta? I begin grinding my teeth together. This is why I don’t get close to anyone. I have rules for a fucking goddamn reason. 

I quickly lift my head, glancing towards my clock, which reads 3:13 am. I begin calculating the last time I took a xanax, a klonopin, a painkiller – any type of drug that usually makes me feel numb and uncaring – was and realize it was hours ago. I shudder. I’m fucking stone cold sober right now for the first time in months, maybe years. Fuck that shit. My mind is too clear; too loud; my heart hurts so goddamn much I find my self scrambling off my bed so quickly I fall off of it. I don’t even care. I throw my door open, staggering to the table holding my drugs left behind by a sad yet understanding Madge, and I take a seat, grasping the bottles hungrily. I actually sigh in relief as I dry swallow two Vicodin. There. All better. 

I glance over at my couch, deciding I would rather sleep there (closer to the drugs) and reaching it, I unceremoniously throw myself down. When I start feeling the tingling in my toes and how fuzzy my mind is I hear myself sighing. Therapy with Haymitch tomorrow briefly flits across my mind and I feel the drugs working against me ( no – for me) and all I can make myself wonder is if he can prescribe drugs. I’m a fucking piece of shit mess. 

The sound of someone knocking on my door jars me awake. My hear is pounding, my mouth so dry I find it difficult to open, and my shoulder is throbbing from sleeping on the couch during my mini drug induced coma. I stumble towards the door, throwing it open while simultaneously raising a hand to block the sunlight filtering in the open door. 

“You forget about our little get together Sweetheart?” The smell of booze and cologne wafts into my nostrils. Haymitch.

“How the fuck do you know where I live?” the raggedy old man just grunts at me before pushing his way inside, past where I stand. Slamming the door shut I stomp my way rather childishly into the kitchen, turning on the faucet and placing my lips to it’s steady stream of water. After a few gulps I pull back, wiping the back of my hand across my mouth. Behind me I hear a pill bottle rattle and I whirl around my defenses up and on high alert. 

“This is a pretty impressive collection you’ve got.” Haymitch wears an amused grin and I rush to where he stands, snatching the bottle from his hands.

“I’m going to ask you again: How do you know where I fucking live?” Haymitch rolls his eyes at me.

“Well after waiting 30 minutes for you I finally had to call lover boy. You’re lucky it wasn’t him who woke you up from your much needed beauty rest. You look like shit.” I narrow my eyes at him before looking back to the clock on my microwave. 6 pm. Holy fuck. 

Haymitch must notice my eyes widen, because he chuckles a little at that moment. 

“Yeah. You should think about investing in an alarm.” 

“Sorry.” I grumble. I reach for my cigarettes on the table. “You smoke?”

Haymitch laughs at me. 

“Sweetheart, I’m a professional alcoholic who sidelines as a therapist. What do you think?” I try to scowl instead of smile at him, as I begin walking towards my balcony. 

“Well come on then.” He follows behind me, and is thankfully silent until we are both seated outside with lit cigarettes. After a brief moment he eyes me. 

“So you usually sleep all damn day?” I sigh. He may be crass but he doesn’t waste time on bullshit.

“Only when I take the right drugs.” He nods at my answer, and a thoughtful look crosses his face.

“Nightmares?” I tense. How in the fucking world?

“Um yeah.” 

“I get em’ too. People don’t really get how sometimes sleeping can be worse than being awake.” I crease my brow.

“I fucking hate sleeping.” 

“So you take drugs because it forces you too.” It’s not a question. He understands, and his voice doesn’t sound judgmental or clinical…. It sounds sad. I nod my head in answer. “Cant really fault you for that I guess.” 

We sit on my balcony chain smoking for a long while, neither of us talking, before Haymitch stamps out his cigarette and stands, stretching as he does so. I make no motion to move, and he turns to go back inside, before stopping and speaking to me once more. 

“You know the boy has nightmares too.” I look up to meet his gaze, but am unable to read it.

“Aren’t you breaching some sort of patient confidentiality telling me that?” I flick my cigarette over the ledge while Haymith guffaws at my question. Instead of answering me he heads inside and I am close behind him.

“I’ll see you next Monday at the duck pond. Don’t be fucking late.” He tells me without turning back, and with that he is gone. I don’t bother to lock the door behind him, instead stripping off my clothes as I walk towards the bathroom to shower.

The water is scalding hot when I step in and I brace my arms on the wall in front of me, closing my eyes and letting the water numb my skin. I try to clear my head of Haymitch’s parting words about Peeta, but they stick persistently in my mind. I can’t control where my thoughts take me, nor the curiosity that overtakes me. Peeta always seems so bright and so chipper, but if he sleeps as badly as I do, it must all be an act. I wonder if his dreams are as violent and morbid and absolutely soul sucking like mine tend to be. I shudder, trying to repress the specific nightmares my mind brings to it’s forefront at the thought. Seeing the bloody corpses of everyone I love at night is enough, I don’t want to see it during the day as well. 

I bathe quickly once the water starts to turn luke warm, and walk dripping wet into my room, changing into comfortable clothes. I reluctantly glance at my computer, sighing deeply before logging onto my school email to see if class would be necessary today. As it turns out, it’s not, thanks to expected “inclimate” weather and my teacher’s fear of all things bad, causing her to cancel class. Closing my laptop I stand and stretch, before my eyes fall on my bookshelf. Besides the night Peeta pulled a book from it’s shelves, it has remained virtually untouched. Somewhere along the way I lost my eagerness to do the things I used to love; reading, watching movies, going running; really anything that required effort and a sober mind. For a moment I’m torn between grabbing more pills from my “impressive” collection or grabbing a book and seeing if maybe by some miracle I could get lost in it’s pages. A rumble of thunder in the distance makes up my mind for me. 

Grabbing the volume of Edgar Allen Poe stories from the place Peeta placed it, as well as a blanket off of my bed, I turn and head into the living room. I pull my chair towards the balcony door, and using a shoe I prop the door open, inhaling deeply as I do so. I love the rain. I love it’s smell, I love the darkness, I love it’s sounds. I have for my entire life. My mother used to call it my “reading weather.” Setteling comfortably in the chair, I wrap myself in the blanket and open the pages of the book, flipping around until I find something I think I can lose myself in. for how morbid my own life has been you would think I wouldn’t like Poe, but for some reason his macabre tales have always eased my mind, and for the first time in too long I lose myself in his words. 

I’m vaguely aware of the darkening sky and light drizzle that has begun, when sometime later I am startled out of my peace by a knock on my door. I reluctantly close the book, before remembering I had in fact left the door unlocked. 

“It’s open!” I shout over my shoulder, and turn my eyes back to the sky. I have no concept of how much time has passed since I sat down, but the weather has taken a turn for the worse. The sky is nearly black, and the wind vicious. I stand and walk onto the balcony, momentarily forgetting there is someone in my apartment. I had assumed it was Madge, but when Peeta appears at my side I realize I had been hoping it was him. 

“Hey”. He smiles at me, casually bumping my hip with his own.

“Hey back.” I return his smile and for some reason just as casually lean into his side, my arms crossed against my chest. His arm comes to rest on my waist, and the thought that I’m not normally ok with shit likes this flits across my mind. Before I can force my body to pull away however, Peeta speaks.

“Getting some reading done?” I nod my head yes against his shoulder.

“Yeah. My class was cancelled and I love reading when it rains.” I tilt my head to look up at him, and see a smile pass his lips. “Have you eaten?” I’m starving, and when he shakes his head indicating he hasn’t, I break our contact. 

“Well come on then.” He laughs a little, following me inside. While I rummage through my kitchen, finally deciding on heating up a few frozen pot pies, Peeta sits crouched next to my stack of DVDs. Out of the corner of my eye I see him toss a case I can’t identify onto the coffee table before walking towards the table holding all of my medication. I cringe inwardly and busy myself with filling up ice trays, trying to seem like I haven’t noticed his unabashed curiosity. I’ve never been one to specifically hide my drug use, but it isn’t as if I’ve ever broadcast it either. I just really haven’t ever cared about what people think about it, but I’m surprised to find I’m nervous about Peeta’s reaction. He is silent however, and after a few moments he joins me in the kitchen.

“So the pot pies take about 15 minutes if that’s ok.” I’m trying really hard to not be awkward, but I can feel myself obsessing over my need to know what he thinks of my drug collection. Normal healthy people don’t have a personal pharmacy that would put Walgreen’s to shame. Normal people don’t need drugs just so they can be a barely functioning member of society. He smiles easily at me however, and I feel a tinge relieved. 

“15 minutes isn’t really that long.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets and leans back on the counter. “Sorry for just showing up. I was hoping we could just hang out tonight and I just didn’t even think to call.” He looks so hopeful, like he’s afraid I’m going to say no, so I smile back at him.

“Yeah that sounds good. Besides I saw you pick out a DVD so you must have already known what my answer would be.” He lets out a laugh, and his cocky ass smirk emerges onto his face, to which I find myself rolling my eyes.

“Well come on and lets see what you’ve picked.” I begin heading out into the living room, and I can feel Peeta close behind me. It’s alarming the way I can feel his presence, how the atmosphere seems to shift when he’s near me, the way more and more of our interactions carry and undeniable heat between us; but what is most alarming is the sense of almost …. Normalcy he brings in my world. Maybe it’s like that fucking inane saying “Two wrongs makes a right”; maybe two fucked up people help each other be not so fucked up. 

We reach the coffee table and as I flop down onto the couch I pick up the DVD case. I had expected to see The Quiet Man or The Philadelphia Story, but when I see the case I’m unable to stop the snort of laughter that escapes. 

“Out of all of my movies you picked The Parent Trap?” Peeta rolls his eyes at me, but not before a sheepish smile crosses his features. 

“Yep. It’s a great movie and I haven’t seen it for a long time.” He is holding his hand out for the disc and I hand it over, no longer trying to contain my amusement at his movie choice. While Peeta is setting up the DVD, I quickly venture into my room, gathering a few blankets. Tossing them on the couch, I go and stand in front of the window, watching the storm. The wind has picked up in speed and ferocity, the rain is falling diagonally, and I watch as the stop sign at the exit of my complex sways back and forth like a sapling. A huge lightening bolt fills the sky, the thunder accompanying it gently shaking some of the items in my apartment. I feel wary about the storm now. As much as I love rain storms, these harsh Florida summer storms scare me, turning violent quickly, devastating everything in their path. Shuddering I close the blonds on the window as the oven beeps in the background. Before I can even step in the direction of the kitchen however, Peeta is pulling the tray out of the oven, and setting the pot pies on separate plates. Using his elbow he turns off the kitchen lights, and sits himself down on the couch, covering his legs with a blanket and clocking the foot rest up.

“Comfortable?” I smirk at him, and he smiles back at me, his mouth full of food. Turning on a lamp in the corner, I turn off the overhead light and settle in on the middle seat of the couch. Covering myself with a separate blanket, I tuck my legs underneath myself and to the side, grabbing the remote and my plate. 30 minutes into the movie Peeta nonchalantly puts an arm around me, and I slide closer into his side, my knees bent near my chest and my head resting on his shoulder. His fingers begin to slowly and methodically trace my arm eliciting a sigh from me, as I bury my head closer to his chest.

“Did you talk to Haymitch today?” his voice is barely above a whisper, and I will myself not to tense up. 

“Uh yeah for a few minutes. He must have not hated me because I have to see him again next week.” I begin to mentally prepare an answer to any other questions Peeta will throw at me about my time with our shared therapist, but he only mutters a “that’s good” before pulling my body more securely against his. As much as I was dreading the possibility of him wanting to know what Haymitch and I talked about, I find I am a little disappointed he didn’t ask at all. After all he was the one who asked us not to pretend. But maybe we aren’t. 

Maybe we’re just watching a movie like two normal friends who have no concept of what personal fucking space is and I just haven’t done anything so “normal” or so sober in so long I’ve forgotten what it’s actually like to not be pretending. I try to silence my erratic and honestly fucking annoying train of current thoughts by concentrating on the movie, but it doesn’t help. Instead I turn my attention to the feel of Peeta’s fingers ghosting over my skin, and the rise and fall of his chest beneath my head. My self-concocted anxiety begins to ebb as the only thoughts I being to be able to focus on are ones of Peeta. I let my eyes flutter closed and allow myself to revel in our contact, which is the most personal contact I’ve allowed with anyone in a long while. Or maybe ever. 

I must not have noticed myself drifting off, but I wake up to Peeta’s voice a while later. The movie credits are rolling on the screen, and it takes me a moment to collect myself. When I do, I realize I have turned into Peeta’s body, using his chest as a pillow, my arm snug around his waist. I quickly untangle myself.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to sleep through the movie.” Peeta chuckles at me.

“It’s ok. I really didn’t mind. But it’s getting late so I should probably get going.’ I am about to nod in agreement with him when a huge rumble of thunder brings me to my senses. 

“Peeta, you can’t go out there in this weather.” Peeta nods slowly, looking anywhere but directly at me. I feel my cheeks burn. I just indirectly invited him to stay the night, and while sex with strange men is my goddamn forte, Peeta is neither a stranger or someone I want a frivolous one night fuck with. That realization startles me a bit and I swallow thickly. 

“I would just feel better I mean, if you stayed. I know it’s probably not the most enticing offer, but the couch is actually pretty comfortable. Hell I slept there last night.” I am now the one avoiding his eyes as I furiously pick at the pieces of lint on my blanket, until Peeta’s hands cover mine.

“Thanks Katniss. The couch will be great.” I smile a quick closed mouth smile, before darting into my room for a pillow. Returning to the living room, I wordlessly hand Peeta the pillow, taking a moment to point out the bathroom and ask if he needs anything, before locking the front door and heading towards my room.

“Goodnight Katniss Everdeen.” I halt my movements and turn around towards the couch. Peeta’s jeans and shirt are folded on top of the coffee table, and he laying with his arms behind his head, the blankets stopping at his waist. I stammer over my words at the sight of him shirtless because, for the love of god, he’s perfect and muscular and I am physically unable to take my eyes off of his fucking happy trail. 

“Um goodnight.” I finally manage, and much to my embarrassment Peeta smiles smugly at me. I roll my eyes, flipping out the lights, and ignoring his laughter as I make my way into my room. 

Easing into my own bed, I can’t help but think how strange the position I’m in is. Never mind that I usually don’t make a habit of openly gawking at hot guys like some 13 year old pre-pubescent teenaged twat, but for the first time…. Ever there is a man in my apartment staying the night. Because I insisted he do so. Gale and I never even had sex here. I’ve never brought a one night stand here. Madge is the only other human that has stayed the night here, and usually it’s to make sure I don’t drown in my own vomit while I sleep. But now there is a hot man sleeping on my couch, who I haven’t so much as fucking kissed, and all I want is for him to be in my bed with me. The most disturbed part is that as much as that little cocky ass smirk of his may get to me physically, I don’t want him in my bed so I can have his cock between my thighs. I just want his arms around me again, and to be listening to his breathing like before, on the couch. And that need and entire idea fucking utterly scares the shit out of me. 

Curling up into the fetal position, I begin to long for my pills, but I was so goddamn caught up in the shirtless Peeta I forgot to grab them. Sighing, I pull my blanket up over my shoulders, wishing that sleep would come soon, but I lay restlessly in bed for another hour before drifting off.

As I walk up the porch of the house I can immediately tell something is wrong. I push the big green door open, and walk cautiously inside. The silence is eerie, the only sound coming room the menu of whatever movie Prim was watching. Hanging my coat on the rack near the door, I slowly venture into our kitchen, searching for my dad. 

“Dad? Prim?” I feel the anxiousness rising in my throat. Something isn’t right. That’s the moment I notice it. The window in the kitchen overlooking our backyard is broken, the curtains fluttering in the night’s breeze. My heart is beating so quickly, and I can’t tell if it’s from adrenaline or pure fear.

“Prim! Daddy!” I am screaming now, and I tear into the living room, but not before tripping over something heavy and out of place in the hallway. Something wet seeps into the knees of my jeans, and ignoring the pain in my chin from my fall, I quickly turn to see what I fell over, finding myself face to face with my worst nightmare come to life. My dad is dead. All I can do is crawl over to his body, screaming his name over and over, while bile rises in my throat along with my sobs. 

 

The feeling of someone’s hands on my arms pulls me from my nightmare. My throat burns, and my face is wet, covered in tears. I am shaking, but after a moment I am at least able to make out Peeta’s face in the darkness. He looks utterly consumed with fear, but I cannot formulate words to console him, or assure him I’m ok. Because I am really not fucking ok. Instead I break all of my rules, and pull myself into his arms, my arms vice like around his neck, my face pressed into his chest while I break the fuck down. To Peeta’s credit, instead of becoming more alarmed, he pulls me down with him so we are laying in my bed, and he begins to slowly caress my back, his arms wrapped around me tightly. He pressed his face into my hair, and lets me cry and try to pull it together. eventually my shaking stops, as do the huge sobs, but I cannot stop the silent tears that flow down my face. 

“I’m sorry Peeta.” I almost whisper the words, racked with guilt and shame for probably scarring him for life. I feel his grip around me tighten, and his lips press into my hair.

“Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for.” I tilt my head so I can study his face, and he hesitates a moment before speaking again. “You were screaming. At first I thought something had happened, but when I realized you were asleep I knew I had to wake you up.” His face is full of pure concern, and I muster up the energy to whisper a muted “thank you.” We are silent for a while, Peeta’s hands never ceasing the comforting patterns on my back, until he finally speaks again in a hushed tone.

“I have them too. Nightmares I mean. The only thing that really helps is telling myself they aren’t real.” I squeeze my eyes shut at his admission, my stomach churning. 

“This one was real. It wasn’t a dream ….. it was a memory. Of the night my dad and sister died.” I feel more tears begin to well up behind my closed eyes, and Peeta’s hand stop their movements. 

“I’m so sorry Katniss.” I let out a single bitter laugh, and if Peeta is unnerved by my reaction he doesn’t say so, instead he remains silent, waiting for me to speak again. 

“I haven’t dreamed about that night in a long time. I don’t think about it ever if I can.” I shudder involuntarily. “Peeta,” I begin to falter, my voice’s volume quickly declining “I’m glad you were here. Thank you.” I pull my hands from around his neck and lean down to pull up the blanket, but Peeta mistakes my movements are his cue to return to the couch. Before I even have a chance to think about what I’m doing, my hand is wrapping around his wrist, tugging his back to me. He looks startled, but doesn’t fight me, and I look at my knees, feeling incredibly small.

“I just don’t want to be alone.” One of his fingers slips under my chin, which he lifts up, forcing eye contact between us.

“I’m not going anywhere.” And because I have lost all semblance of my personal self control, I slide my hand over his cheek, before slowly leaning forward, placing my lips on his. The kiss is short, but every part of my body and mind lights on fire the moment our lips touch. I pull away, resting my forehead against his, my eyes closed, my hand still on his cheek.

“Thank you.” I whisper for the third time tonight. Peeta’s hand covers my own, and he kissed my palm before tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. His arms wrap around me, and he eases us down, my head on his chest, and our legs tangled together. Peeta places one more lingering kiss on my forehead, and for the second time tonight, I fall asleep to the sound of his breathing.


	7. Chapter 7

Peeta POV

I’m slow to wake up this morning; (it’s not even really morning I don’t think, sometime around 3 am) and everything feels wrong but perfect at the same time. My brain begins piecing together memories of last night, but it isn’t until I feel Katniss snuggle in closer to my chest that I finally feel relief. The feeling is fleeting however, as something new, something I don’t think I’ve ever really felt takes its place. I’m happy. I think. Instantly I hate myself for even thinking in such a way. I shouldn’t feel happiness as a direct result of her pain. I’m here because she was terrified of being alone, something I completely understand. 

I had lied to her yesterday, when I told her I had simply forgotten to call before heading over. In reality I was too afraid she would say no, and being around her makes me feel like maybe I’m not alone, and as a result I selfishly want to spend every waking moment with her. I know without a doubt that the sound of her screams last night will haunt me the moment I close my eyes tonight when I’m alone. Well, either that or the kiss we shared. I’ve been trying so hard to abide by Madge’s warning, to not rush Katniss, but I’m losing my resolve. 

While I’ve been the one to instigate most of our time together, I think Katniss is the one making the big choices. Asking me to stay, kissing me the way she did – it took me a long to fall asleep after that. As much as I want to taste her and tough her and just love her, I’m not too dense to realize that for her, laying next to me in bed, grasping onto me, pressed into me every way imaginable, is so much more meaningful than sex. After our encounter with Gale I think I realized how fragile Katniss really is. She’s doesn’t let people in, but she isn’t stopping me. 

Hell, at this point if all we ever did was kiss, and she continued to let me hold her like this I would. Because I wouldn’t be alone. 

Her breath tickles my neck and I tighten my grip around her, closing my eyes. The storm is still raging outside, and I have nowhere else I would rather be, so I allow myself to drift back to sleep.

 

Katniss POV

For the first time in a long while, when I wake up, I actually feel rested. When I feel arms around me I silently begin to panic at my proximity to another human being, until I realize who it is. A sense of calm rushes through my body, and I keep my body still as to not wake him. I’ve never intentionally slept with something like this before. 

I shift my head slightly so I can look at his face. His hair is more curly and mussed after a nights sleep, and his stubble is a little more grown than it was when I met him. His lips twitch a little, and I feel a wave of embarrassment flood through me as I remember kissing him last night, in what could really be considered my first real kiss, simply because it was the most pure one I have ever shared with another person. Until last night 99% of my “kisses” involved tongue and were really just an ends to a mean. Before last night the only people I’ve kissed I had only done so to get to the fucking. I pale a little at the thought. Peeta seems so unearthly good and kind and respectable, his head screwed on more straight than mine will ever be. We are heading down a dangerous path together, one where I’m certain I will hurt him, because that’s what I do best. I hurt those around me. But as much as I know the right thing to do would be to stop the direction we are moving, I know I am too selfish. The idea that I needed him had made my stomach churn last night, but this morning I am resigned to the idea, welcoming a fresh wave of self-hatred as I do so. We aren’t even dating but I’m already in so deep. He deserves someone so much better. But I am selfish. It’s always been my truest characteristic. 

Lost in my train of thought, I’m slightly startled when I hear Peeta’s whispered “good morning”, and I can’t help the small smile that takes over my expression. I glance up towards him, his bright eyes shining down at me.

“Good morning to you.” I whisper back. Normal voices seem out of place somehow in this moment, as if they would break the calm. Peeta smiles sleepily at me, and nuzzles his nose in my hair. 

“The weather isn’t any better.” I manage after a loud rumble of thunder invades our silence. He chuckles, his laughter sending vibrations from my skull into my toes.

“Would it be super creepy if I admitted I would be perfectly content spending the day like this?” He murmurs into my hair, and I wait for the onset of utter panic to spread through me, but it doesn’t. I’m always so in tune with how certain situations will make me feel, but the emotions Peeta brings out of me are always unexpected, raw, and new. Currently I feel shy, something very very new, and I grip him a little tighter, before mustering up the courage to say the words rolling around my head.

“Not creepy. That sounds good to me too.” It takes every ounce of will power I have to say the words, so naturally they come out sounding small and delicate. When I feel his face lift off my head, I look up, desperate to make sure my admission hasn’t frightened him off. When he leans down and wordlessly kisses me however, my initial expectations are once again proven wrong.

This kiss is somehow different from last nights, which was born out of need and high running emotions, while this feels more like two people reveling in the simple fact that they can be kissing; and once again I feel like I’m being kissed for the first time. The tenderness and somehow passion of this kiss leaves me dizzy, and as his soft lips move against mine everything about me buzzes to life. I slowly inch my hand into the hair on his neck, content to play with its ends and curls while we kiss softly and slowly. When Peeta finally pulls away, it’s with a smile blazing on his face. He brushes his nose against mine, and I actually fucking giggle. 

I don’t think I’ve ever giggled.

I didn’t even know I was capable of doing that. 

Jesus Christ. I am a 13-year-old pre-pubescent teenaged twat. 

I’ve never felt so young in my entire life. I almost feel carefree, but the moment I think that, the reality of what initially brought Peeta into my bed crashes into me, and once again my emotions leap off a fucking bridge, just mercilessly fucking with my mind now. Instead of shame or embarrassment or panic, the kind that usually causes me to close up tightly against the world, I feel compelled. Compelled to actually fucking talk about it.

“Peeta?”

“Hmm?” His eyes are closed and his fingers are once again doing that amazing massage thing on my back. I take a deep breath. 

“I’m sorry if I freaked you out last night.” His eyes fly open at my words.

“You didn’t. I mean the screaming startled me, yeah, but I understand. I really have them too. Pretty much every night.” How is he so open about this shit? My curiosity is piqued thanks to his admission and I try to be delicate with my next question, sounding more like an idiot instead. 

“Do you…. I mean are they……” I pause, trying to find the way to ask this question, but Peeta beats me to it.

“What are they like?” I nod into his chest, and he sighs. 

“No memories, and no screaming really. I just tend to dream about the worst ways I could end up. Or that I get violent around the wrong people. Around any people really I guess. Mostly my dreams are about hurting the people I care about.” He shivers a little against me, and one of my hands begins to slowly trail up and down his forearm. 

“I always hurt people in mine too. Not directly. But when I find them I always know it’s because of me.” Peeta remains silent after I speak, but his arms pull me into his side a little tighter. 

“Did you have any nightmares last night?” My voice is once again strangely shy. 

“No actually I didn’t.” I smile a little before realizing I didn’t have any either.

“I didn’t either. After you came here I mean.” Peeta’s hand works it’s way into my braid, slowly untangling it. He begins to run his fingers through it and my skin is lit up with goose bumps. I lay quietly next to him trying to ignore the way his fingers are honestly turning me the fuck on, choosing instead to concentrate on the rain fall outside until his steady actions lull me back to sleep. 

The windows are open, my air is going and my fan is turning as quickly as it can, but in this sweltering Florida heat it has little effect. My body is covered in a sheen of sweat, my hair is damp as his fingers delicately trail from the side of my breasts to my thighs, prying them apart, holding them down. My breathing is labored, my eyes are closed – due to the weather or du to the effect this boy has on me I don’t know – but I never want to be anywhere else. He grips my hips, his fingers sliding slightly against the sweat on my body, and I lose my breath the moment he plunges his tongue into me. It’s cool and wet and it feels so overwhelming in contrast to how hot and sweat covered everything else is. My hands bury in his wet hair as he moves his tongue in and out, swirling it, curling it, - fucking me to oblivion with it- and my hips jerk up so roughly over and over again, my clit pressing against his mouth or his nose, I can no longer tell, and I lose whatever control I have been able to maintain until now. I jerk and writhe and twist and he moans into me as I begin to lose every fiber of what makes me me to him, to his tongue inside of me, to everything we are when we are together………

My eyes fly open while dream Katniss enjoys her orgasm. Lucky cunt. My leg is slung over Peeta’s hip and I realize the reason for my dream is that I not only fell asleep a little turned on, but I had also subconsciously dragged myself right onto his erection. I’m really fucking wet and he is really fucking hard, and this entire situation is a little embarrassing for some reason, but when I try to move off of him, his hand flies down to my thigh basically trapping me. my heart is pounding so loud I’m pretty sure I could be confused as the goddamn Energizer Bunny. I look up at him and that fucking smirk on his face makes me bite back a moan.

“Enjoy your dream?” His hand tightens on my thigh and I’m 100% sure I am bright red right now. 

“Um sorry?” I avoid his eyes and try really hard not to feel the pressure of his dick on me. 

“Trust me, the way you were saying my name a few minutes ago assures me you aren’t sorry in the slightest.” My eyes fly up at his. I can’t even think, my mouth won’t fucking open with a retort. Peeta hitches my thigh up more before flipping me underneath him, pressing his hips into mine. This time I can’t control my moaning. Or the way my legs wrap around him. Peeta leans his face towards mine, and brings his lips to hover right above my face. 

“So what was your dream about?” He dips his face to my neck, licking it, and whatever resolve I had to not tell him flies out the window with my sanity and just about every coherent thought I think I have ever had. 

“You.” His lips lay against my ear.  
“And what was I doing?” He sticks the tip of his tongue in my ear, rolling his hips against me once. My hands cling to his arms.

“You were….. you went…..” Fuck. I am usually so straight forward about this shit. Get it together Katniss you pussy. “You had your tongue in me.” I finally say it so quickly I honestly hope he didn’t understand it, but the moan he lets loose against my neck tells me he did.

“Katniss.” He groans my name right into my ear.

“How was I?” he asks lifting his face above mine, a smirk playing at his lips as his hips resume their torturously slow movements against me. I can’t help but to laugh and roll my eyes at his question. 

“You did alright for yourself.” He grins, but my voice shrinks. “But Peeta, we’re not, I mean I’m not –“ I glance away embarrassed. His hand comes to my face as he finishes my though for me. 

“We’re not there yet. I know.” 

My eyes meet his. How the hell does he understand me so effortlessly? Especially considering I have no idea what is going on half the time? And more so, when did I turn into someone who isn’t ready to have sex? I love sex. I crave it almost. 

But this is…… different. 

Sex is usually just that for me – sex. It doesn’t really matter whose face or heart is attached to the dick as long as the body is good, but this is Peeta. His heart matters. Sex with him wouldn’t just be sex and I am definitely not ready for whatever the hell it would be. 

“Do you want to stop?” His hips cease their movements but he doesn’t look mad that I don’t want to fuck him. He looks concerned that he’s done something wrong. He’s concerned about me. This boy is not real. 

I tighten my legs around his hips, grinding myself against him.

“No. Don’t stop.” He begins grinding into me with new fervor, and I return it. He places his hands on either side of my face, his right one winding into my hair, his lips landing on mine. His tongue meets mine, sucking it into his mouth, biting my lip, kissing me so deeply I could probably come right now. When we pull away we are both gasping for breath, Peeta choosing to rest his forehead against mine as we continue moving into each other. My hands slide from his arms to his ass, gripping the fabric of his boxers, driving him into me harder. We’re both sweating, and the intimacy of the moment is driving me to a place few have ever gotten me so quickly. And with so much clothing on. Our skin it’s touching for shit’s sake, except for our legs, but the rust of emotion that is rolling through me added to the way Peeta’s eyes never leave mine takes me so far over the edge that when I come I’m shaking, not shouting. I’ve been called a “screamer” before so this quiet reaction is so blissful and so welcomed I moan Peeta’s name in gratitude. His arms wrap themselves underneath me, around me, crushing my body into his, while he buries his face into my neck, rocking himself against me more furiously than before, until I feel the front of his boxers become as wet as my own underwear is. 

We lay together, simply catching our breath for a long while. My body is so relaxed – I haven’t had sex since before my fight with Gale, and I’ve been too drugged up to take care of it myself. But my mind is still reeling. I skipped past all of this stuff. I never had a chance to do all the small things leading up to sex; the shy touches, the dry humping (that is apparently really fun). Instead it got fucking taken from me. Sex has never meant anything more than distancing myself as much as possible from the memory of when I had my innocence and my fucking dignity ripped apart and torn away. Being with someone has never been like this for me before. 

Peeta’s head raises from my shoulder, and he shifts down, laying it on my chest. My hands absentmindedly find his hair, and he sighs against me. 

“Well that was fun.” I laugh at his summation of what just transpired between us.

“Yes I would have to agree.” He rests his chin on my breast bone, grinning at me, my hands content to continue playing in his curls. 

“Hey the rain stopped.” I listen for a moment, and realize he’s right. The storm has passed. He buries his head back into my chest, sighing once more. 

“I have class at 5.” My hands stop. Oh. He wants to leave. Usually I’m the one that leaves. I wonder if my announcements of this sort have ever gutted anyone I’ve been with the way his just did to me. He must notice me tense up, because he quickly whips his head up.

“I have a quiz and I need new boxers, but if it’s alright with you, can I maybe come back after?” his cheeks are flushed with a tiny tinge of pink, and I feel relief wash over me. he isn’t running from me and whatever the hell we just did. I smile at him. 

“Yeah. It’s alright if you come back.” Peeta shifts up on his arms and gently kisses me, before rolling next to my side, pulling me into him once more. 

“Then I’ll come back.”


	8. Chapter 8

Peeta and I lay together for a bit longer before he has to go be a real person. After the door closes I basically run for my phone. I find Madge in my contacts and impatiently pace around my living room while the phone rings.

“Are you alive?” It’s the first thing she asks me. Not hello, not how’s it going, she instead asks if I’m alive. I laugh.

“No I’m dead and calling to let you know. Yes dumbfuck I’m alive. And 100% sober.” I sit down on the couch, rummaging through my purse for a lighter.

“Excuse me?” She sounds disbelieving, but I know she is actually taunting me. I roll my eyes at no one.

“Yes. I Katniss Everdeen am sober. But I can fix that really quickly if you are going to be weird about it.” Madge snorts, while my fingers finally grasp around a blue lighter. I head out onto my balcony. 

“Ok deal. What’s going on? And I won’t tease you I promise.” I survey the wet chairs on the patio, turning back into my apartment to retrieve a towel. 

“Peeta stayed the night last night.” I find an old beat up beach towel, placing it under my arm, stopping in my tracks to hold the phone away from my ear when Madge screams.

“You done?” I ask sarcastically, placing the phone between my ear and shoulder as I wipe down a chair with the towel before sitting in it. 

“Oh my god Katniss. Have you ever purposefully stayed the night with a guy ever? Actually I know the answer to that. How did this happen?” Madge is talking a mile a minute and I light a cigarette, inhaling before responding. 

“He came over last night to watch a movie but the weather was really bad so I told him to stay. He took the couch like a gentleman.” 

“Oh.” The disappointment in her voice is palpable and truthfully a little funny. “Katniss I don’t think that actually qualifies as staying the night unless he’s actually in bed with you.” 

“He got there eventually.” I gather my knees up into the chair, aware this conversation is not going down the path I had originally intended. 

“Oh did he now?” I swear I can hear her eyebrows rising through the fucking phone. “And how was Mr. Mellark?” I choke on the smoke in my lungs. Oh yeah. I fuck guys so often with disregard that my best friend (my only friend) assumes I did the same with Peeta.

“Um, we didn’t have sex actually so I don’t know.” Madge is silent for a few moments, but it feels like they last for eons. “Madge you better still fucking be on the phone and not like passed out in shock or something because that will not amuse me.” I kick out at a bucket resting sideways on the ground.

“I’m still here. Sorry. Just trying to process.” I sigh.

“It’s so fucked up that I’ve whored around so much that you have to process this.” I say quietly to her. 

“Katniss this is good I think. And I’ve never considered you a whore and you know that.” 

“That’s because you’re too good of a person. Of a friend.” She laughs at my statement. 

“Well I am pretty great. But if you guys didn’t sleep together how did he end up in bed with you?” I flick the ash off my cigarette. 

“I had a nightmare and he heard me screaming.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah but it’s ok. He stayed with me. He took care of me.” I hear Madge squeak a little through the phone even though she obviously tried to hide it. 

“I heard that.” 

“Katniss I’m sorry and don’t hate me but that is fucking adorable. When did he leave?”

“Uh about 10 minutes ago I guess.”

“HE JUST LEFT? IT IS 3:30 IN THE AFTERNOON!” I once again hold the phone away from my ear as she yells out the time of the day to me. 

“Jesus fucking Christ Madge I am perfectly aware of the time I am not a goddamn invalid.” 

“You are holding out on me Everdeen. What the hell?” I shake my head. I am about to get seriously laughed at. 

“Ok. Well he stayed and we laid in bed all day, talking. We kissed, made out actually I guess. And there was maybe some dry humping involved alright?” Madge is once again silent.

“Dry. Humping.” I am extremity uncomfortable at the tone of her voice. 

“Uh. Yeah.”

“Are you 12?” I grit my teeth at the teasing.

“No asshat. It’s just different with him I guess.” 

“Different how?” Madge’s voice is softer now, and I know she’s probably figured out exactly how Peeta is different but she won’t believe me if I don’t say it out loud.

“I don’t know. I’m just not, we’re just not, there yet. I don’t think. I don’t think I’m ready. You know. For sex. With him.” I exhale. God I hate talking about shit like this even if it’s all I think about. 

“I think that’s a good kind of different Kat. A great different.” God bless Madge. 

“Thanks. Can I see you this week?” I need a change in subject, which thankfully (but not surprisingly) Madge picks up on. 

“You still owe me dinner shithead.” I laugh, long and hard.

“Yes I guess I do.” 

“Thursday night?” 

“Sounds good.”

“K. Love you Kat.” 

“Love you too Madge.” 

Hanging up with Madge I meander back inside. Peeta had said his class would be over around 7:30, so I resign myself to actually doing some chores. After folding blankets, starting a load of laundry, and loading the dishwasher, I head to the table and pill all of my pills into my arms, choosing to dump them in a drawer in my nightstand. I strip my sheets, deciding some new ones are probably due, and head for the shower. 

As always the water is hot enough to probably make some fucking coffee with, and after I’m done bathing I flop down on the bathtub floor to begin the process of shaving my legs, something I hate doing. I can’t help wishing it were winter, where I never have to wear shorts and never have to shave my legs. But if Peeta and I are going to move slowly I should probably start paying attention to my downstairs upkeep. After I finish shaving all my lady bits and pieces I shut off the water, wrapping a towel around my body, when a loud banging on my door breaks the thoughtless trance I’ve been in.

“For shit’s sake hold on!” I yell after throwing the bathroom door open. The pounding maniac pauses and I quickly throw on some athletic shorts and a sports bra. As I’m walking towards the door, the pounding begins again so I throw the door open seething. When I see him however, my anger shifts, making room for the annoyance that accompanies my current guests appearance. 

“Gale.” He looks tired, as well as peeved that it took so long for me to answer the door. His eyes roam my body for a moment and he swallows.

“Hey Catnip.” I cross my arms over my chest, not asking him in on purpose. 

“What do you want?” My voice is venomous, but so where the things he said to me the last time we saw each other so I don’t feel any guilt. 

“ I was wondering if we could talk?” His eyes refuse to look at me now, choosing instead to focus on the cement ground of the outdoor hallway. I let out a long sigh. 

“Yeah I guess. But not in here. Outside.” He nods as I step out in the hallway to join him. 

“Look Katniss.” My real name. Oh boy. “I’m so fucking sorry about how I acted the other night. I just lost it.” He’s looking at me now, his eyes pleading. I lean back on the wall, arms still folded over my chest. 

“Just a little.” I can’t help the tone in my voice and he deflates.

“I just saw you with him and I flipped. I was fucking wasted out of my mind and I said stupid shit. I’m really sorry.” I sigh, running my hand through my wet hair, choosing to not respond. He takes a step closer.

“I miss you Catnip.” 

I roll my eyes. 

“No. You miss fucking me.” I look him straight in the face and he flinches. 

“Katniss it hasn’t been about just fucking you for me for a while now. Yeah I miss that. But I miss you more.” I freeze. This isn’t where I want this apology to head. Shit.

“Gale, you’re my friend.” I choke out, but once again, he steps closer, undeterred. 

“Katniss, we’re more than just friends. You know it and I know it.”

“What about Glimmer?” Shit. That wasn’t the right thing to say, because his eyes light up a bit, thinking there’s a shot. 

“We broke up.” A step closer.

“It doesn’t matter.” I try to take a step back forgetting that I’m against the wall already. Trapped.

“Why?” He’s so close now I can feel his body heat.

“Because I’m ……’ I pause, trying to figure out what it is exactly I’m doing with Peeta. Sleeping with him at night. Kissing him. Watching movies. Waiting for him to come back to me. 

“You’re with that blonde prick aren’t you?” Gale’s eyes are fierce when I snap my head back to look at him.

“He’s not a fucking prick. And I don’t know what we are, but I want to find out.” I push myself off the wall and try to sidestep away from him, my anger boiling, but he grabs my bicep, keeping me from moving further away. 

“Give me a fucking chance Katniss.” He’s angry now too, his hold on my arm increasing. 

“Gale that fucking hurts. Let go of my arm right the fuck now.” He doesn’t but he at least decreases the pressure. 

“Catnip why? We have to try. You’re all I want.” There are tears in his eyes. I’m hurting yet another good person. Great.

“Gale, I’m sorry.” I take my hand and place it over his, trying to pry his fingers off, but they won’t budge. He catches me surprise instead, pushing me back against the wall. I put my hands on his chest to push him off, but I can’t overpower him. When his lips crash into mine, I raise my knee and jam it into his stomach, not hard, but it pushes him off me. He tries to catch his breath, looking shocked. 

“What the fuck Gale? You really think forcing yourself on me is going to change my mind?” 

“I wasn’t forcing myself on you. Stop being so dramatic. I just can’t lose you to that douche.” He turns to leave, before stopping and looking at me once more. 

“I’m not giving up Catnip. I know you feel something.” And then he’s gone. 

I slide down the wall, pulling my knees to my chest. Goddamn it. I’m shaking from the encounter and I can’t tell if it’s from anger or shame. 

I wasn’t afraid of Gale. He would never hurt me intentionally and I know that, but that’s exactly what I did to him. I knew. I fucking knew he had feelings for me, deep down, but he had a girlfriend and I’m practically a shell of a human being, which I assumed made me un-datable, unlovable. I had hoped he would get over his crush on me, marry Glimmer or some other big tit blonde, and forget I ever existed. I knew I was hurting him, that he cared about me more than as a friend or a good fuck, but I’m such a shit person I ignored it for my own selfish reason. As much as I want to be angry with him for basically ambushing me, the only anger I can maintain is that of searing self-hatred so vicious I swear I can actually feel it coursing through my veins. I need a fucking drink. 

I don’t know how long I sit against the wall, but when I begin coming to I realize the sky has darkened drastically. I stretch my legs out in front of myself and massage my temples, trying to pull my shit together enough that when Peeta arrives he won’t notice anything is off. I stumble back into my apartment, and immediately make a beeline for the liquor cabinet. Pulling out the bottle Madge left me, I sigh, the weight of the Jack and it’s familiarity reassuring me that I can escape my problems with the help of the liquid. I set the bottle down, and turn to fetch a glass but the unmistakable squealing of Delly outside my door stills my actions. One day I am going to buy that girl a fucking muzzle I swear to god. Maybe that would chill her the fuck out. Sighing I make my way to the front door, and fling it open, taking in the sight before me.

“Come on Peeta. We’ve barely gotten to hang out and it will be fun, I swear!” Delly’s voice is so high it could probably shatter glass, and my eyes flicker to her hand on Peeta’s wrist. Swallowing down the urge to forcefully remove her hand from him, I clear my throat to announce my presence. Delly turns dramatically, her eyes wide with excitement. 

“Katniss! Yay! Please convince Peeta that you two should come out tonight! We’re going to Geoffrey’s, there are 2 for 1 wells and it’s going to be so much fun!” She’s literally bouncing with excitement and it takes every ounce of my will power to not roll my eyes. 

How in the fucking world can one person be so perky and have so much energy without drugs? As much as I usually detest huge group outings however, I can’t help thinking how perfect this opportunity is. I can get fucking obliterated around Peeta without him realizing something is up, while drinking alone in my apartment would definitely do the opposite. Also, Geoffrey’s is my favorite place, and it would be good if Peeta is there, because when I am in self-loathing “lets get drunk until we forget our names” mode I tend to get reckless. As well as extremely horny. It’s not that I would “cheat” on Peeta, even if I’m not sure it would be cheating, but the chances of me riding some strange dick decreases 100% if he is there with me. So I shrug at Delly, turning my attention to Peeta, who is waiting for my response. I get the distinct feeling he kind of wants to go, so I turn my eyes back to Delly’s. 

“Oh I’m sure I can convince him to go. What time?” The shriek that explodes out of Delly’s mouth makes my eye twitch, and she has resumed the bouncing from before.

“Yay! We’re meeting there at 9! Come over a little before and we can carpool! See you guys soon!” I nod once at Delly, turning and walking back inside, leaving my door open so Peeta can follow once he can escape Delly.

I heave myself up onto the table top where my pills recently sat, swinging my legs as I wait for Peeta. When he finally manages to come inside, he walks towards where I sit, dropping a duffle bag on the floor before leaning against the wall across from me and folding his arms across his chest. My eyes fall on the bag.

“Um is that what I think it is?? I look from the bag to his face, not at all surprised to find an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips. 

“That depends on what you think it is.” His voice is seductive or something along those lines and I raise my eyebrows at him.

“I think what it is, is presumptuous.” Peeta laughs a cocky chuckle, pushing off the wall, coming to stand in front of me. Placing his hands on the table on either side of me, but careful not to actually come in contact with me in any way, he leans forward and speaks lowly in my ear.

“No. You don’t.” I fight off the goose bumps and shudder that threaten to tell him how much this is turning me on. 

“So maybe I don’t. You’re still an ass.” Peeta snorts in my ear, and I respond by slapping his arm playfully. The flirting with this kid never stops. Pulling back he places a kiss on my forehead, caring sweet Peeta taking the place of dangerous cocky Peeta in an instant. It’s astounding how much I enjoy them both. Wrapping my arms around him, I rest my head on his chest, as his arms follow suit. 

“So what’s Geoffrey’s like?” His voice sounds 10 times louder when my ear is pressed up against him like this. 

“It’s the only bar I really like actually. Kind of a dive, kind of beat up, but the music is great and you can smoke inside.” I feel the laughter bubble in his chest, and reluctantly pull away to look at the clock. It reads 8:10pm. 

“I hope you brought clothes in that bag of yours, because we probably won’t have time to go get you any.” 

Peeta waggles his eyebrows at me. “Oh don’t worry. I always come prepared.” 

Shaking my head and rolling my eyes at him, I slide off the table and walk into the kitchen. I mix up two whiskey and cokes, handing Peeta one once he emerges from the bathroom. He’s now wearing a pair of jeans (and he is fucking wearing them well), and a simple – not to mention wonderfully tight – black t-shirt. He accepts the drink and after I tell him I’m going to change, he heads into the living room, flopping down onto the couch and turning on my TV. I smirk to myself as I head into my room. I think I like how comfortable Peeta feels here. Initially it freaked me out, but as I grow comfortable around him, it makes me feel safe to know he’s equally as comfortable around me. 

Standing before my closet, I eye my wardrobe, wishing something were new or different or at least appealing. I sip my drink, relishing the taste of whiskey running down my throat, finally choosing a black and grey striped silk shirt, a pair of black jean shorts that are fraying at the ends, and my black gladiator sandals. Delly’s friends will most likely be more dressed up, and if we were going to someplace nicer I may be as well, but this is Geoffrey’s and based on the amount of drunk I am planning on getting tonight comfort is key. 

After I get dressed I untangle my hair from its braid and apply some eye make-up. Before walking out to rejoin Peeta I quickly pull out my bottle of xanax and deposit a few in my pocket, just in case. Since Peeta arrived it’s been easy to steer my mind off of mine and Gale’s earlier conversation or confrontation, but the xanax are there for if I lose the ability to control my thoughts. I don’t particularly care for people who drink and become emotional waste cases, and I have no intentions on being once myself tonight. 

I finish my drink as I am walking into the living room, and I eye Peeta’s half full one, raising my eyebrows. He catches my drift and holds up his hands. 

“Are you judging me Everdeen?” 

I grin at him.

“No. I was just going to say I’m sure Delly has some Mike’s hard lemonade next door if you can’t handle the whiskey.” I turn and walk into the kitchen and begin mixing myself another drink. Peeta comes to join me moments later, making a big show of setting down his newly empty glass next to mine to be refilled. I laugh and elbow him playfully in the ribs. 

“Well look at you.” 

He snorts. After I hand him a glass, I turn to face him.

“We should probably head next door soon. After these drinks.” I nod at him in agreement, and watch as he dramatically downs his drink quickly. When he finishes he slams his glass down and points at my still full cup. 

“You know I heard there may be some Mike’s Hard at Delly’s if you’d prefer that.” I laugh uncontrollably before finishing my drink and grabbing my purse. I grab his arm and pull him along with me.

“Come on smartass let’s go.”


	9. Chapter 9

We meet Delly at her door, heading down to pile into her SUV. Peeta insists I sit up front, and I gratefully accept thanks to the knowledge that Delly is picking up some of her friends on our way and the last thing in the world I want is to be in the back with her sorority sisters. Once we pick them up however, I begin to instantly regret taking the front seat. As one of Delly’s friends slides her way into Peeta’s lap all I can think about it how I should have made him sit up front where none of Delly’s constantly horny friends would have access to him. The girl in Peeta’s lap – Samantha – is shamelessly flirting with Peeta and I feel jealously boil inside of me, threatening to take over in what I’m sure could prove to be interesting ways. As she wriggles in his lap obviously trying to mark him or something along those lines, she takes to running a hand up and down him arm. She’s talking to him quietly and he seems to be doing his best to not touch her at all, but when I hear her tell him she’s going to buy him a drink once we get to the bar because “it’s the least she can do”, his eyes lock on mine in the rear view mirror.

“That’s nice of you Sarah, but not necessary.” She guffaws like he told her the funniest joke in the world.

“Come on, we’re both single and I owe you for the ride.” She bites her bottom lip and shifts in his lap, trying to flirt but looking like 10 cents to dance. I’ve already decided that beating the fuck out of her once we get to the parking lot will be worth the jail time when I hear Peeta speak up once again. I meet his eyes in the mirror once again, and I can read the mischievous look in them. What is he up to?

“Actually Sarah, I don’t think I’m single. At least I hope I’m not.” My mouth parts open. I didn’t expect that. I honestly was expecting him to goad her on a little to get me more jealous or something but Peeta is nothing like the other guys I’ve “been with”. My mind is having trouble coming up with a response but my mouth is already moving before I realize what it is that I’m saying. 

“You are definitely not single.” I state evenly. Peeta smirks, and the girl looks at me shocked while Delly squeals. 

When we finally pull into the bar parking lot, the slut in Peeta’s lap is the first one out of the car, practically before we even stop moving. It would have made me laugh normally, but not only has today been a fucking shitstorm of emotions I usually try my best to avoid; I was just tricked into dating someone. Well, maybe not “tricked” but the way it happened definitively caught me off guard, an when we exit the car, I make sure the look in my eyes lets Peeta know exactly that. He grabs me by the wrist, holding us back from the group, turning to me anxiously. 

“Sorry. I’m not in trouble for that am I?” His eyes are searching mine, and as angry as I would normally expect to be, I don’t have it in me to be upset with him. I sigh dramatically, and roll my eyes for effect, hoping he can’t tell how my lips are fighting a smile.

“In trouble for what exactly?” 

“Uh, for letting that girl sit on my lap I guess. And for using it to ask you out. In a car full of people.” His eyes dart to the ground, and he looks so defeated that I abandon my pretend anger and laugh. 

“No you’re not in trouble you idiot. She was flirting with you and I wont lose sleep if she gets run over by a car, but you weren’t flirting back. As for the second part I can’t decide if it was really smooth or really cheesy. I’m glad it shut her the fuck up though.” Peeta releases my wrist, grinning at me now, wrapping his arms around my waist. 

“It was smooth and you fucking know it.” I once again roll my eyes at him but can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face. I wrap my arms around his neck, using them to lift myself onto my toes. 

“Whatever Peeta. Will you just kiss me so we can go in the bar and you can buy me a drink?” He laughs before nodding his head and leaning into me. My body is flush against his, our lips moving together, and I’m unaware of how long we stand there in plain sight making out until Dell’s voice from the bar interrupts us. 

“Look as adorable as you two are, stop making out, it’s time to drink!” Peeta and I break apart, and catch our respective breaths.

“You heard the lady.” I snort at him, and he wraps his right arm around my waist as we walk towards the bar. At the entrance the bouncer stops us and Peeta pulls out his wallet, but I don’t bother with mine. Stepping forward, I hold out my wrist and the man in the black security shirt places a blue “21” band on my arm. Shit. I have no idea if Peeta is 21, so before he steps up, I place my hand on the security man’s arm. 

“He’s with me Joe.” Peeta looks at me quizzically when Joe bands him without seeing an ID and without questions. 

“Uh thanks. How much is cover?” Joe smiles at Peeta.

“Naw man, Kat here’s a regular. Don’t worry about it.” Peeta nods at Joe and I shoot him a smile, dragging Peeta inside behind me. 

The bar is darker, to hide how shitty it actually looks, and the cold air mixes with the smell of cigarette smoke, beer and mold in a way that instantly makes me calm. I lead Peeta over towards the bar, an when the bartender sees us he heads straight over, ignoring the other customers. 

“Hey what can I get you guys?” I’m about to answer hen I hear Peeta speaking.

“Two double whiskey and cokes.” He looks down at me sheepishly. “Uh I mean if that’s what you want?” I smile and nod at him. 

“With limes.” Peeta grins back at me before turning back to the bartender.

“With limes.” The bartender mixes our drinks quickly, and Peeta pays before I even have a chance to reach for my wallet. 

“I was kidding you know, you don’t have to buy me a drink.” This time it’s Peeta who is rolling his eyes at me while handing me a bar napkin. 

“Katniss please. Don’t complain about me spending money on you when you’ve supplied me with food, liquor and cigarettes plenty of times.” I huff at him.

“Fine I guess.” He grins and shakes his head at me, casually slinging his arm over my shoulder, leading us over to our group, but not before placing his lips close to my ear. 

“Just wait until I take you out on an actual date because I’m going to spoil the shit out of you Everdeen.” I make a grunting noise in distaste and Peeta responds by laughing at me. When we reach the group, Peeta slides his arm off of me so he can shake hands with one of the girl’s boyfriends. While he’s distracted in conversation, two girls quickly appear at my side and I force myself into suppressing what I can only assume would have been an offensively loud sigh. The two girls are sort of friends of Delly’s, but I know one from middle school. They look like stepford wives in fucking training with their straight blonde hair, wedges, high waisted skirts and flowery tops. I reach into my purse, ignoring them the best I can thanks to the apparent fact that neither of them are aware of what “personal space” is, lighting a cigarette before finally acknowledging their extremely close presence to me. the one wearing a green skirt – Emily – speaks first.

“Hey Katniss! So Bekkah was telling me in the car that Peeta said he’s not single and that you might know who he’s dating? Is it serious?” Her fake enthusiasm in this fake, not to mention minorly insulting conversation is making me want to vomit. I’ve never understood why conversations with these girls are always so drenched in double meaning and hidden agendas. I swear everything feels like some fucking political mind match and I’ve never had the capacity to care or play along. I tend to be fairly blunt. Tilting my drink towards my mouth, I take a large mouthful in, and pull on my cigarette, my eyes never moving from the two idiots in front on me. God I hope my eyes convey how dumb I think they are. Exhaling slowly I finally answer.

“Me. He’s dating me.” I purposefully avoid the second part of her question, because I’m not really sure how to answer it. Whatever Peeta and I have going on definitely feels really fucking serious but I’m afraid that if I admit that out loud I’m going to start panicking and run for the hills as much as I don’t want to. It’s like part of who I am to get the hell out of dodge when things get real, so not admitting it to my self is the best option for the time being. The blonde in the blue skirt – Jessa – is staring at me, her mouth wide open, tempting me to see if I can throw an ice cube in it – when Emily speaks again. 

“You can’t be serious.” I’m bored of this conversation at this point, but trapped nonetheless. 

“Yeah, I’m being pretty fucking serious.” My voice is monotone, but hers has gone from fake sincerity to cruel and incredulous extraordinarily quickly. 

“But you’re dating Gale.” I sigh. 

“No, I was fucking Gale, but not anymore. We were never dating. But I am dating Peeta. And while this has been more fun than I could have possible imagined, I need another drink. And I’m pretty sure my boyfriend does too.” I put out my cigarette and walk past them, directly to Peeta, consciously laying my hand on his lower back. For some reason, after that conversation, I feel it’s important to show these twats that Peeta and I are here together. When he feels my hand on his back, he looks down at me and grins.

“Hey sorry. We got to talking about the basketball season.” 

“It’s fine, I was just seeing if you need another drink.” He nods and I take his empty glass. When he reaches for his wallet, I shake my head no. 

“Nope. This ones on me.” He begins to protest, so I quickly stand on my toes and kiss him on the mouth, my eyes darting to the posse of girls watching us closely. I place another lingering kiss on his lips, and when I’m finished I sink back to the ground on flat feet. His eyes flicker over to the group of girls and he grins at me. 

“Marking your territory?” I place my hand on his chest and my fingers plays with the divot between his pecs. 

“You better fucking believe it. Those girls are vultures and they all want the same thing right now. You.” I feel my face flinch with anger. Peeta leans down and places his lips close my ear. 

“Too bad for them all I want is you.” My heart begins to beat quickly and I swallow trying in vain to not get too turned on this early in the night. That would be dangerous considering the involvement of alcohol, my jealousy, and the fact that I have so much pent up sexual aggression running through my veins right now; because there’s a good chance that the combination of those three things could lead me into fucking him in the bathroom of the bar. 

“If you don’t stop doing that Peeta I’m not going to be able to help what I do.” I meant to tell him to stop turning me on, but my words seem to have the opposite effect that I was intending because he quickly places his hands on my hips and goes after my mouth rather aggressively. When he pulls away I am holding both empty glasses in my hands between our chests, trying to catch my breath. 

“You’re going to be the death of me Katniss Everdeen.” I try my best to smile deviously, and stumble away from him to get more drinks. If being around Peeta is going to reduce me to a mushy mess of adolescent smiles and giggles I am going to need a lot more booze. I deposit the empty glasses on the bar top, and wait on two fresh ones. I can’t help but think about how fun and relaxed this is. I don’t feel suffocated by Peeta, and I’ve spent more time with him since I’ve met him than I’ve ever purposefully spent with anyone. Leaning against the bar I watch him across the room, smiling and laughing as Delly’s flame of the month – Clark I think – tells what I’m assuming is a story. When we first met there was that normal carnal need I feel when I see someone hot, but lately I’ve noticed how that word or description doesn’t necessarily do him justice. 

I mean yeah, obviously he’s hot, I’d have to be blind to not notice the way every girl near him is eyeing him like he just walked out of their wildest fantasies, and I’d really have to be blind to not notice how utterly amazing his body is, how his stubble is perfect and his eyes are almost inhumanely blue. But what I’m seeing now, what I’ve noticed as I’ve gotten to know him, is better. It’s breathtaking actually. The way his eyes crinkle when he laughs. How gentle his hands, hip lips, even his eyes are. How the small amount of hair on his chest is darker than the hair on his head. How his eyes give away his emotions, but always have a spark of something good in them. He isn’t hot, he’s beautiful. Something about him has me spinning. In a matter of days he has managed to do something to me nothing has ever done before, not the pills, not the booze, not the drugs, not the therapy, not even Madge. A few days ago, I was content with sleeping and never waking up and he has managed to guide me out of my darkness, not by force, not by guilt, but by just being there, and making me want to escape it, just so I can bask in being around him. He’s like the mother-fucking sun. I’m so caught between running away and plowing forward, no fucks to give, that he’s been gently leading me in a direction that is safe and new. I came here tonight intent on indulging my favorite demons, but now all I want to do is go home and watch movies on my couch with him.

Just honestly, what the hell is happening to me?

Peeta catches my eyes on him and smiles at me, and I can feel my cheeks blushing as I smile back. The bartender finally sets my drinks down in front of me, and I leave his money and tip on the bar, taking the glasses in my hands. The bar has filled up fairly quickly since we got here, meaning I’ll have to cut my way around the crowd. Sighing, I turn around to begin the fucking worst process on the planet, when I am met square on by none other than Gale fucking Hawthorne standing right in front of me. This kid doesn’t fucking quit. 

“Hey Catnip.” He’s seriously smiling right now, like he thinks this situation is funny, or will make a good story for our kids or some shit. 

“What the fuck Gale.” It’s all I say to him, before I turn left and begin to move as quickly as I can through the crowd. I’m almost to Peeta when a hand on my shoulder stops me abruptly, the full drinks in my hand sloshing their contents onto my legs. I whip around, unable to contain my anger. 

“Gale, seriously? I told you once already today to leave me alone. Are you actually fucking stupid?” I almost regret my words, because Gale has really only ever been a good friend, but he is getting under my skin in all the wrong ways right now. 

Gale holds his hands out in front of him as a sign of surrender. 

I’m not here to do anything stupid Catnip. You’re here with him, I’ve got that. But Delly invited me and it would look weird if I didn’t show. No funny business I swear.” 

I side eye him, shaking my head, not quite believing him. 

“Ok. I believe you” He snorts at my obvious lie. Behind me I feel Peeta walk up and I turn handing him his drink. He eyes Gale suspiciously and to my surprise Gale sticks his hand out to shake Peeta’s.

“Look man, I’m sorry about the other night. I was out of control. It won’t happen again.” 

Peeta shakes his hand, nodding.

“Thanks man. I appreciate it.” With that Gale saunters over towards the group, while I stand dumbfounded. Am I in the fucking Twilight zone? Beside me, Peeta sets his drink down on the table, before wrapping his arms around my waist from behind. 

“What are the chances that you could be convinced to go out on the dance floor with me?” 

I let out a single laugh.

“I’d day 0 right now, but that percentage increases the more I drink.” 

Peeta laughs behind me, the rumble of his chest causing my skin to actually prickle. 

“Well then, I think some shots are in order.” 

Grabbing his drink in one hand, and me in the other, Peeta walks us over to the bar. He orders two shots of tequila and grins mischievously at me. 

“It’s too bad we’re in a bar because when you lick this salt off of me I’ll have to work really hard at containing myself.” 

“You’re drunk.” I smile, shaking my head at him.

“Not even close. You’re just wearing those shorts, and all I can think about is you wrapping those legs around me.” 

I choke a little on my drink. 

“You don’t’ stop do you?”

He smirks at me, lowering his lips to my ear.

“You have no idea sweetheart.” 

I feel a rush of heat to my chest. Not having sex with Peeta is going to be the most difficult thing I’ve ever done, especially when he’s talking to me this way. He flashes me a grin reaching over to take our recently delivered shots, the salt and two limes. I watch him trail his finger in the condensation pooling around his drink glass, before dipping it in the salt. He hands me my shot before bringing his finger to my mouth. Never breaking eye contact I part my lips, reaching my tongue out, using it to bring his finger slowly into my mouth, just as slowly sucking the salt off the tip. Never leaving his eyes, I take my shot off the counter, tipping my head back and drowning the biting liquor quickly. Setting the glass down Peeta holds a lime out to me. I bring his hand to my lips with my own, biting down on the lime, licking my lips once I’m finished. Peeta’s game may lie in his words, but mine is purely action based. He clears his throat after a beat. 

“I think you should take the other one too.” I smile and shake my head. I drew attention taking the shot the way I did, so it’s not happening again. 

“Sorry, but I think you weren’t the only one entertained.” Peeta looks around; clearly displeased with the male (and some female) attention I’ve gained and quickly takes his shot. 

“Do you want to go outside and smoke?” He begins steering me towards the back entrance of the bar before I even have a chance to respond, and I laugh at his protectiveness. 

Once we are sitting outside, lit cigarettes in hand, he looks at me sheepishly. 

“Sorry. I know you can handle yourself, but I’m afraid if one of those guys had said something I would have been compelled to put them in their place.” 

“Oh, so you weren’t protecting me, it was merely self preservation.” I smile and nudge his knee with my own and Peeta laughs a little, but his eyes are serious.

“Yeah a little. A bar fight isn’t my idea of a good time. I’ve been in too many to know I don’t want to be in any more.” 

My curiosity level spikes, but now is not the time to ask him how on earth someone as gentle and living as him could end up in a bar brawl. 

“What if one of the girls had said something instead?” I’m toying with him now, to lighten the situation, knowing I’ve succeeded when his eyebrows almost shoot off his face. 

“That would have been entirely ok with me.” 

I burst out laughing. It’s probably the liquor making me feel this way, but my filter is gone, my guard down.

“I love how comfortable I am around you.” I take a sip of my drink, watching his reaction to my words. He grins. 

“I know what you mean.” He pauses for a moment, moving closer to me, sliding his hand up my inner thigh. “But not too comfortable I hope.” 

Unconsciously I lean into his side. God I want him to fucking take me against the wall or something. 

“You know, this morning was so hot Katniss. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” He inches his hand under the edge of my shorts. “All I can think is that if that was so amazing, everything else is going to be fucking unbelievable.” He leans into me, kissing my neck, causing me to shudder. “I know we’re not having sex just yet, and I’m a huge fan of letting the anticipation build but in the meantime….” He bites down on my earlobe. For the love of fucking God. 

“Peeta, if you don’t stop I’m going to be able to walk home.” He pulls away, removing his hand and grinning at me. 

“Sorry. I just get carried away around you.” 

“Don’t apologize. Trust me, I was enjoying it.” I shift in my seat, turning to peer inside of the bar. I catch Gales’ eyes on me but he quickly looks away. Delly and all of her friends have reached the point of intoxication where they stand around hugging, and telling each other why they think the other is simply wonderful, and I am struck by the overwhelming desire to leave. Peeta must read my mind. 

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t really feel like going back in there.” 

“Me either. I’d rather go to the liquor store, buy a bottle and enjoy the night, or just go back to my place and get stoned.” I’m just recklessly throwing ideas out here – I don’t even know if Peeta smokes – so I’m surprised when he drains his drink, standing up, offering his hand to me. 

“Then let’s do that. Both of those things.” I smile, draining my own drink, grabbing his hand.

“Should we tell Delly we’re leaving?” He looks inside, cringing a little bit at what he sees. I’m guessing it probably involves a lot of tears. 

“No. She’ll just assume we wanted to be alone so we left. Which is technically true.” 

“Alright. Is there a liquor store close by?” 

I nod at him. We aren’t far from my apartment, and in between where we are and my place is a liquor store. I wrap my fingers around his, leading him to the store down the street. 

Thanks to the rain from earlier, the night is cool, a rarity in Florida. There’s a light breeze blowing as we walk, and Peeta eventually opts to release my hand and wrap an arm around my waist instead. We walk in silence, simply enjoying the night, and after 10 minutes we reach the store. 

“You’re 21 right?” I ask before we walk in.

“Yep. Earlier this year. You?”

“Yeah, in May. It’s weird we know so much about each other, but I didn’t even know if you were 21.” Peeta shrugs as he holds the door open for me. 

“Getting to know things like that is just part of the process.” We slowly begin to browse the aisles as we talk.

“What process?” 

He shrugs again. 

“Dating I guess. I mean I’ve only had one serious girlfriend but isn’t hat how it goes?” He picks up a bottle of vodka that is whipped cream flavor, and makes a face of disgust. “It’s like they try to make vodka more disgusting on purpose.” I laugh while he sets the bottle down, and we continue meandering the store. I’m quiet for a moment before picking back up on our conversation. 

“I’ve actually never really dated. Anyone. Ever.” We’ve moved in front of the gin now, and I pick up a bottle, pretending to be interested. 

“Wait seriously? I assumed you and Gale were ex’s or something.” I feel the pit of my stomach drop. How the fuck and I supposed to tell the only guy I’ve ever liked – really actually liked – that I’m basically a whore?

“Um well no actually. We weren’t ever together like that.” 

“Oh.” Peeta is silent until we are standing in front of the shelves of beer. 

“Would it be cool if we got a case of beer? If we’re smoking I’d rather just have something refreshing if that makes sense.” 

I’m preoccupied trying to figure out if I’m just imagining the shift in the atmosphere so I simply nod a yes to him. He picks up a case of Dos Equis, and I follow him to the cash register. I offer him money, which he declines, and we walk out of the store in silence. I take the lead, Peeta following, our silence clawing into my stomach. Less than 6 hours in and I’ve already fucked this up. 

As we walk back to my apartment in what feels like a funeral procession, I begin to panic. After I unlock my door Peeta walks inside and immediately veers right, searching my kitchen until he finds the bottle opener. Grabbing the case he walks into the living room, sitting cross-legged on the floor. He gestures to the spot in front of him and I sit mirroring his posture, leaning over to the coffee table to grab my grinder and joint roller. Clearing my throat and paying attention to my work, purposefully not looking at him, I attempt to break our heavy silence. 

“Look I’m sorry if it weird’s you out that Gale was my fuck buddy. I didn’t have any feelings for him which probably doesn’t fucking help at all, but I didn’t. In face, I’ve never had feelings for anyone I’ve slept with. Which is why I want to wait. With you I mean. Because I think sex with you won’t just be about fucking or whatever you know? And that scares the shit out of me. “ 

I place the weed in the roller before taking a joint paper and wetting the top with my tongue. He remains silent, making me nervous. I want to get up and run the fuck away. After I place the paper and begin to roll the joint, I fold again under the weight of the quiet. 

“Uh if you don’t feel the same way, that’s cool, don’t worry about it. I know sleeping around is literally the least attractive thing in the world, but I kind of assumed this is different? I don’t know, it feels different to me, but if you don’t feel the same way ---“

“Katniss shut up.” His words startle me, and I almost drop the now rolled joint. 

“First of all, you could never be unattractive to me. I don’t care who you’ve slept with or how many people you’ve slept with. Secondly, it is different with you and me. So different it kind of confuses and scares me too. Finally, and this is really immature, but I’m really fucking relieved you and Gale aren’t ex’s because girls practically fall over themselves when he walks into a room. I just can’t believe you would choose me over him is all.” 

He looks so serious, so concerned, that when I start to laugh I quickly try to make myself stop.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but Peeta, oh my god, you are so much more attractive than Gale. Girls practically throw themselves at you. And it’s no contest between you two I swear, because even if there was it wouldn’t be much of a match.” 

“I’m hotter than Gale huh?” I roll my eyes at him. 

“Shut up and open a beer for me.” Peeta smiles smugly at me before passing me a beer. Scooting back with his drink in his hand, he leans against the couch, motioning for me to join him. Joint in hand I rest my head against his shoulder, lighting the joint after drinking more of my drink. 

“Just so you know it’s really hot that you can roll a joint.” I snort handing him the weed. 

“I used a joint roller. I cheated.” He laughs turning so his side is leaning against the couch and he is looking at me. I turn as well, and he bends his leg closest to the couch. I slither my legs around his, one tucked under his outstretched leg, the other draped over it. I place my elbow in the couch and lean my cheek against his knee, looking up at him. He takes in some smoke and slowly lets it seep out of his mouth. Absentmindedly I reach up and tuck a piece of his hair behind his ear. 

“How on earth does someone like you exist?” I startle myself by asking the question out loud. He places the joint between my lips and I take it in, his eyes never leaving mine. 

“For someone like you to find I suppose.” I exhale slowly, the smoke hanging around us like a thick cloud. Peeta pulls on the joint for a long moment, before he sets it down on the ash tray next to us, and leans in to me. Taking my chin in his hand he pulls my face to his, placing his open mouth on mine, blowing the smoke into me. He pulls away briefly so we can both exhale and breathe in clean air, before once again closing the space between us. The kiss is long and slow, building more and more heated with every second that passes. I begin to reach down between us, not even thinking and just letting my body run this show, when my phone rings. Our mouths part, our foreheads resting against each other’s. 

“Fuck.” I pant.

“Just ignore it.” Peeta implores me, his lips attaching themselves to my neck. I’m tempted to do just that, until I hear the ring tone more clearly. The song playing is “Charmer” by Kings of Leon, which is Madge’s ring tone, and only hers. I push Peeta off of me, and offer him an apologetic glance.

“It’s Madge I’m sorry.” Peeta smiles his understanding at me, pushing some hair behind my ear and picking up the joint to relight it as I answer my phone. 

“Madge?” I can make out loud music and laughter in the background, and instantly become concerned. Even though I’m maybe the least trustworthy human on this planet, Madge always let’s me know where she’s going just in case, but hse hadn’t told me she was going out tonight. 

“Katniss? Hey. Thank God. Are you sober?”

No.

“Yes, I am. What’s wrong?” 

“I came to a party, and the people I came with are all super wasted and I really need to leave. I’m super sketched out right now.” 

I stand up immediately at the panic in her voice, and begin collecting my things, motioning for Peeta to follow me. I don’t know why exactly, but there’s a sinking feeling telling me I need to bring back up. 

“Madge, where are you?”

“A house off of Lovelace.” I tuck the phone behind my ear, as I lock the door behind Peeta and I.

“I need you to be more specific.” 

There’s a pause and I can feel just how nervous Madge really is, in turn making me doubly anxious, especially considering the types of place Madge has accompanied me too without even batting an eye. 

“MADGE!” My voice must sound super urgent because Peeta’s eyes are full of concern, and he places a hand on my forearm. I hear Madge clear her throat.

“You know the place Kat. It’s….. it’s Chaff’s.” 

Peeta and I have made it into the parking lot by now, but at Madge’s words I freeze, completely unable to move. 

“Katniss?” I break out of my zombie like state at Madge’s voice and shake my head a little, as if to clear it. 

“We’re on our way Madge.” 

“Thank you Katniss. And my phone is almost dead, but I don’t feel safe waiting outside, so just honk when you get here.”

“Ok, we’ll see you soon.” 

I click off my phone and climb into the car, my hands on the steering wheel, as I force myself to take a deep breath. Peeta sits silently in the passengers seat, but when I finally start the car he breaks his silence.

“Katniss what’s going on?”

“Madge is at a party a guy we know from high school is throwing.” 

“Is that a bad thing?”

I can feel the tears pooling in my eyes. I’m literally walking Peeta into the last place I would ever want him to be, a room full of people who had front seats to the show that was my self destruction. 

“Yeah Peeta. It’s a bad thing.”


	10. Chapter 10

The alarm next to me keeps going off, but instead of waking up I choose to hit the snooze, bringing my arm up in an effort to make the damn thing fucking shut up. When my arm bumps into the back of another person instead of reaching out towards my nightstand my eyes fly open. Shit. Who the fuck is in bed with me? I can’t believe this is happening again. I mean I can, I just don’t want to fully believe it because admitting that I am maybe the worst person alive isn’t something I am ready to do. I’ve found that denial; drugs, booze, and sex are so much better than admitting that I may have a problem. What fun is recovery? You have to be sober to recover. I never want to be sober again. Which is how once again I am waking up next to a fucking stranger with the taste of cigarettes in my mouth and what I’m suspecting is cum in my hair. 

And I’m fucking late for first period. 

An hour later I pull up in the parking lot of school, showered, in jeans and a sweatshirt, which both, by some miracle, are clean. I park my car and lean back in my seat waiting for the bell to ring in 15 minutes. I completely missed first period but it wasn’t an important day so I’ll be fine. Right now I’m more concerned with trying to piece together the events of last night. After I had woken up and showered I had to kick my one night stand out of my house. Thankfully my mother wasn’t home, because she never fucking is, so I didn’t have to deal with that mess. He was attractive at least, and from what I remembered his dick was lovely. I picked up his jeans and went through the pockets for any clues and found a parking ticket for a parking garage downtown, across from one of the college bars I go to when I’m too lazy to spend money on drinks. I love being a girl sometimes. Flash your tits a little or wear a short skirt and guys will spend tons of money to get in between your legs. Really, it’s a beautiful thing. I found his wallet in his back pocket, to see how old this dude was, but what I found was not what I was expecting. As soon as I saw the name on the id I almost choked on thin air. Jason Lawson. Fuck. Jason Lawson as in Sarah Lawson’s brother, as in Chaff’s girlfriend and best friend. God. Damn. It. I panicked. I almost didn’t go to school. I almost left him in my house for my mom to find. Instead I woke him up and made him leave, and he went without any complaints, just a cheeky fucking grin that made my stomach turn. 

Now sitting in the school parking lot I wait for Madge to emerge from class and walk with me to our second period class. If anyone knows, Madge will have heard about it, and she’ll tell me as soon as she sees me, because for some reason everyone here likes Madge and she is popular but she still hangs out with me. I couldn’t for the life of me tell you why but god bless her for being my only friend. 

When the bell rings I feel dread fill me. Now or never I guess. I couldn’t really keep my less than Christian escapades a secret for much longer, not at the rate I’m going. Popping a xanax in my mouth, I drain it with the large coffee I picked up on the way, and grab the one I brought for Madge. She might as well get something out of this friendship. Sucks that it’s only a daily latte from starbucks. 

I lean on the side of my car as I watch her approach. She doesn’t look thrilled. Shit. She comes to lean next to me and I wordlessly hand her her coffee, not bothering to look at her, instead adjusting the sunglasses on my face.

“So any good rumors going around the mill this morning?” I ask dryly. 

“Yeah. Actually I was thinking maybe we should cut classes today.” 

Well that fucking catches my attention. Madge never cuts class. Ever. I turn to look at her, her gaze downcast at her shoes.

“Is it really that bad? Just fucking tell me.” 

“Katniss….” She still won’t look at me and her voice is tiny. I never really understood how someone’s voice could have size until now. 

“Madge just tell me I’m a big girl, I can handle it.” 

She sighs, and looks at me finally. 

“Katniss, how much of last night do you remember?”

I snort. “How much do you think?”

“Shit Kat. You know you fucked Jason Lawson right?”

I can feel my cheeks redden. I know I’m pretty much a whore but hearing my best friend ask if I know who I fucked last night is worse than self admittance. 

“Uh yeah I know. Not my best moment.” 

Madge sighs and runs her hand through her hair, motioning me to the car. She walks around to the passenger’s side and climbs in, giving me no choice but to follow. I slide in, place my keys in the ignition, but don’t turn them. 

“Madge we can skip class but not until you tell me why.” 

She rubs her eyes, like I’ve seen my mom do when she realizes she spent all our bill money on mediums and other ridiculous shit. 

“Katniss, there are pictures. He took pictures and I’m pretty sure I heard there was a video.” 

I stare at her for a few long minutes. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Taking a deep breath I turn my car on and drive off of campus. 

That night, after seeing the pictures and the video thanks to a facebook group called “Katniss Gone Wild”, I over dose on roxies. When I wake up a few days later in the mental ward of the local hospital, my mom can’t look at me. She never really does again. 

Those moments are all I can think about on the drive to Chaff’s house. After I was finally allowed out of the ward I talked my mom into letting me finish my courses at the online school in town, where I only had to go in to take tests. I haven’t really seen anyone from high school besides Madge since. I didn’t really give them a chance to humiliate me in person like I knew they wanted. 

Looks like they’re about to get it, and Peeta has a front row seat.

When we finally get to the house I quickly realize there is no parking. There isn’t even really a place for me to sit in my car to honk the horn. Sighing, I find parking down the street. After I turn my car off, Peeta and I sit in silence for a few moments before he speaks up. 

“Ok on a scale of 1 to 10 how bad is bad in Katniss land? Just so I’m prepared.” He doesn’t look pissed that I left him with such a cliffhanger, and his silence on the drive wasn’t disconcerting, especially since he spent the drive with his hand on my neck, smoothing the hair there. He was giving me space and some time. Because he’s literally a perfect human being. Out of all the things about my past I don’t want him to know, this may rank in the top three. Sighing, I twist in my seat and look at him, the concern etched on his face nearly causing me to tear up because that’s apparently the type of person I am now. 

“Well it depends I guess. I just…..” I sigh and look out the window trying to rein it in. I really need to get it the fuck together if I’m about to walk into this house full of people I literally hoped to never see again. 

I finally look back at him and bring my hands up to my face, rubbing it to try and make myself speak. 

“After my dad and Prim died, I kind of lost it. Not in a fun movie way or anything, but I started to party and drink and do drugs because I just didn’t care anymore.” 

“Didn’t care about what?” Peeta’s hand is on my thigh now, encouraging me to go on. I stare at it because I can’t look at him while I tell him any of this. 

“I don’t know. Living? I just wanted to do shit that would make it easier I guess. And it was easier to not remember doing things than to try and work through it all. So I drank and I started sleeping around. Fuck, I really didn’t want to have to tell you this.” 

I feel his hand under my chin, forcing me to look up, and when I do I’m met with the most sincere look I may have ever seen another person emit from their eyes. Or maybe I’m just putting it there because it’s what I want to see. 

“Katniss I already told you, I don’t care who you’ve slept with or how many people you’ve slept with. It’s not like I’m some precious virgin, I’ve had my fair share of one night stands.” 

I can’t help the laugh I let out at his words. I don’t know what he means by fair share, but I doubt its anywhere close to the impressive number I’ve racked up over the years. 

“Ok, but remember that promise when I tell you this next part.” He nods silently and I take a deep breath in order to continue, because dragging this out means I have a few more moments where he cares about me and wants to be with me, and I want to revel in that feeling for as long as I can. 

“My senior year of high school, I hooked up with this guy and he fucking taped it. I didn’t know about it but the kids I went to high school made this Facebook group with all the pictures and video and it was the fucking worst. I guess it was the straw that broke the camels back in my downward spiral because I OD’d on pills the same night but I obviously survived. Eventually I left school and finished the year online because I couldn’t handle the shit they would have said.” 

Peeta’s hand has stopped its comforting movement on my thigh and when I meet his gaze his eyes are blue steel, and not the zoolander kind. I fucking knew it. No one wants to date someone with this much fucked up shit in their baggage. 

“And these people at this house, they made that group and spread that shit? Is the guy who videoed it in there?” 

Well okay, that was not the question I was expecting. More like “Can you tell me the address so the cab knows where to get me?” I furrow my eyebrows and place my hand on his.

“Uh the kids definitely are. In some cruel twist of fate like half of my senior class decided to come to school here. As for the guy, I don’t know, but he’s Chaff’s best friend and his girlfriend’s brother so maybe? I don’t know I haven’t kept up with any of them.”

“Why the fuck is Madge at a party with them?” Peeta looks pissed and not at me, and I’m really fucking confused. He is mad at the people at the party, which was not what I was expected and now he’s asking the question I never let myself ask. Why does she still hang out with these people? 

“I don’t know. I mean she graduated with them, and some of them are alright. She’s not like me, people like her, she’s capable of having more than one friend.” 

Before I know it Peeta’s hands are on my face, forcing direct eye contact. 

“You are perfect. Don’t talk about yourself like you aren’t. You have more than one friend, you just have good taste in them. A few good friends is a fuck ton better than a bunch of shitty ones.” 

Well that’s some perspective. 

“Ok, but don’t be mad at Madge. Seriously, I couldn’t handle it if my boyfriend hated my best friend.” 

Shit. I just called him my boyfriend; we have just been dating for a few hours. I’m going to seem like I’m the clingiest person in the world and really it’s the exact opposite. I hate words. They are the worst especially when you say them and they don’t mean what you want them to mean. Luckily, Peeta flashes a grin at me instead of looking at me like the bat shit crazy person I am. 

“I promise, your boyfriend doesn’t hate your best friend. Actually I like her a lot. I know she’s been there for you when no one else has. I couldn’t possible hate her.” 

I roll my eyes as he continues to grin, probably happy he got me to call him my boyfriend. That smirk of his is going to be the death of me in the long run, I know it. 

Holy fuck. The long run? What the actual shit Everdeen. I really need to talk to Madge. Unfortunately that means I have to go save her from this party. Sighing I open my door and Peeta follows suit, jogging to join me as I begin to walk to the house party. 

“Let’s get this shit over with and go home.” I say, not particularly to anyone, but Peeta’s arm comes up around my shoulders protectively, and I wrap mine around his waist, instinctively laying my head on his chest as we walk. He kisses the top of my head.

“Don’t worry. No one can touch you. Except for me. I can touch you.” 

I laugh out loud at his obvious attempt to calm me, surprised that it’s working.

“Yes, you can touch me, but not until we get back to the apartment.” We finally make our way to the door, pushing past some girl puking by the steps (oh how many times that has been me), and without knocking Peeta throws it open. 

Inside the house smells musky; I can practically see the steam that comes from having a hundred people crammed in a 3-person house rolling out of the door as we walk in. The smell of spilt liquor and beer is pungent. To our right a beer pong table has been set up and people are piled around it, which is to be expected. People are sitting on sporadically placed chairs, while others stand huddled in different groups. Two guys are fighting for control of the Ipod supplying the music for the party, and I quickly glance around to see how many of these faces are familiar ones. Cringing, I realize there are more than I would want. 

I have literally walked into my worst nightmare, my own personal living hell. Luckily for me I happen to be wrapped around a 6 foot something tall well built man with eyes that look like they could rip anyone to pieces at the moment. Peeta has taken protecting me to a level I’m surprisingly comfortable with. The only people glancing our way are girls eyeing him, and dudes who quickly look away when he notices them. Maybe I’ll make it out of this in one piece. 

“Holy fuck that cannot be who I think it is.” 

Or maybe not. 

My eyes dart to the left, my unprotected side, quickly, as I see a blonde girl staring at me like I just rose from the grave Lazarus style. Lura Clayton. Sarah Lawson’s best friend. Fuck me in the ass twice. 

I ignore her the best I can as Peeta and I try to make our way through the crowd to the couches Madge is most likely at, but Lura’s hand on my arm stops us. Shit is she on steroids? When I finally look at her face I realize she’s more likely on coke because she looks like a 2010 Lindsay Lohan wannabe. Her eyes are wide, and there’s a grin on her face that doesn’t at all look like she’s hoping to catch up on old times. More like she’s finally going to get to say whatever it is these shit holes have been waiting to say for the past 3 and a half years. 

“I’m sorry did I invite you to touch all over my arm?” Maybe being a bitch from the get go isn’t my best plan but I know what’s coming and I have no desire to supply this bitch with any fake sincerity. I’m not about to waste that energy on her. 

I can feel Peeta’s grip on my shoulder tighten as he assesses the situation unfolding in front of us. I can see Sarah Lawson surrounded by girls I don’t know as Lura (whose hand is still on my arm) gestures wildly to her to come and see. Fuck everything in the world that ever led to this moment. 

“Still the same Katniss Everdeen aren’t you? Don’t like being touched unless it’s by some guy.” Lura sneers at me. By now my stare has shifted to her hand which is still somehow on my arm, and as I am considering the many things I could do to have it forcibly removed, biting it not completely off the option list yet, I hear Sarah’s voice. 

“Well look what the cat dragged in.” She is standing next to Lura now, her face smug. I might as well throw myself into the ring. 

“Seriously? That’s the best line you could come up with? A better one would have been ‘Well heavens almighty look what we have here!’ It’s much more dramatically satisfying since I assume that’s what you were going for.” I hear Peeta snort behind me, obviously enjoying what happens to me when my hackles are raised, and Sarah looks shocked I would say something like that to her. Mostly because I never really spoke to anyone when I was in school. 

Sarah’s features smooth over quickly, shock replaced by what I can only describe as “bitch face.” 

“Well you’ve definitely gotten more sassy haven’t you? And tell me, do you know the name of this one?” She nods to Peeta before actually addressing him. “Hey handsome, I’d be careful around this one. Don’t want to catch something.” 

Before Peeta can respond, which I know he wants to do, I hear myself doing so.

“Actually you little fuck twat, this is my boyfriend. Now how about instead of jumping to assumptions we end this nice little class reunion so I can get the fuck out of here?” I tug on Peeta’s shirt with the hand I have wrapped around his waist, as to indicate my readiness to make a fucking beeline to the couch, but Sarah, the cunt that she is, decides to continue on with the humiliation parade. 

“Oh please Katniss. No one believes this guy is your boyfriend. He’s much too good looking and with your record I sincerely doubt anyone wants to be in a relationship with you. So blue eyes, what’s your name? Want a drink?” 

It’s a good thing I don’t carry a gun because killing her is a temptation even without one. I’m ready to fucking bury her when I hear Peeta speak.

“Wow babe you weren’t kidding. She is a cunt.” 

I turn to Peeta quickly, my face probably one of pure shock. Not only did I not say that to him, but he just referred to me as babe. He’s playing all of the pressure points I would want him too but would never ask. I have the biggest urge to just throw him against a wall and have my way with him, and he must be able to tell because as he looks at me, his smirk plays across his face. 

“Excuse me?” 

I turn to face Sarah and Lura again, sighing loudly.

“Seriously? Can we just go back to never talking to each other? Do you remember how nice that was?” 

As the words leave my mouth, I watch as a tall muscular douche walks up behind Sarah and Lura, a grin plastered across his face. If there is proof that whatever god there is hates me, the fact that Chaff has seen me is absolute proof of it. 

“Holy shit. If it isn’t Pawnees own little home video porn star.” 

“See Sarah? Much better than ‘Look what the cat dragged in’”. I might as well go for gold if I’m going to suffer some public humiliation. It works because I get Sarah’s ears to turn red at the top, and I’ve decided on a new game. How long until I can get both ears entirely red? 

“Hey dude, watch what you fucking say.” Peeta’s voice is hard, and his grip on me changes, as he shifts to stand by my side, dropping his arm from around me, instead moving to stand slightly in front of me. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Chaff is obviously drunk as shit, and sizing Peeta up. I’m pretty sure he is too drunk to realize Peeta would probably murder him in a fight. 

“That’s her boyfriend apparently.” Lura speaks up, and I can’t help but smirk a little. Same as high school. The constant third wheel. 

Chaff’s demeanor changes almost immediately, his smile growing wider by the second. 

“Well dude, I’m sure you can appreciate what I’m talking about! I mean, they way those tits bounce is a sight to behold. Not the mention many girls do not know how to ride a man like that if you know what I mean.” Chaff winks at Peeta, slapping a hand on his shoulder, and like that the steady tension that I’ve felt rising in Peeta seems to snap. 

In mere seconds, Peeta has pushed Chaff backwards, into the wall behind him, and has his elbow placed against Chaff’s throat. Chaff tries wildly to do anything to escape or to hurt Peeta, but Peeta has his knee placed on the inside of Chaff’s thigh, making it hard for him to get any leverage to free himself. I’ve never seen Peeta this angry or this dangerous. 

All of a sudden Madge appears at my side, having heard the commotion like the rest of the party.

“Holy shit Kat, what’s going on.”

“Chaff brought up the video.” Is all I say to her, my eyes never leaving the two men in front of me. 

“You may think it’s real fucking funny to joke around about some douche that videos a girl without asking her but I don’t think its funny, especially when that girl is my girlfriend. I could fucking kill you right now you pussy, do you understand that?” 

Peeta is grinding his elbow into Chaff’s throat, whose face is turning red as he wildly nods. I see Peeta take a few deep breaths before letting go of Chaff and backing away, before turning to me, a wild look in his eyes. I begin to walk towards him, to pull him out of here because it’s obvious something really bad is going on in his head right now, but Chaff being the idiot he is, decides to retaliate rather than admit defeat. He punches Peeta in the back, and I watch as all the color on Peeta’s face drains before turning red, his eyes so dark they almost look black. 

He turns on Chaff, dodging the next punch before rearing back and hitting him so hard that Chaff falls to the ground. Peeta is on him in an instant, rearing back to hit him again, when I finally snap into action. Just as Peeta is landing a third punch on Chaff’s already impressively bloody face, I reach him, placing my hands on his back.

Putting my hands on his shoulders I tug him lightly, carefully leaning forward to his ear. 

“Peeta come on, he’s not worth it. I’ve got Madge we can go. Please.” My last plea seems to break him out of whatever trance he was in, and jerking himself backwards he scrambles off of Chaff, who sits up immediately and beings mopping the blood off of his face. Peeta stands shakily and I am at his side immediately, my arm wrapped around his waist once again, my other on his stomach, as I begin to lead him outside. 

Thank god no cops showed up. As Madge, Peeta and I walk out the door I hear a girl say something that makes me smile. It was something along the lines of “It’s time somebody put that asshole down.” I couldn’t agree more, but Peeta is shaking in my arms and I’m more than a little concerned about him right now. Maybe that person shouldn’t have been Peeta. 

We’re all silent as we walk towards my car, and I pull my keys out of my pocket. 

“Madge I know you’re drunk but can you drive?” 

She nods enthusiastically, her eyes full of worry, bouncing between Peeta and I as I put him in the back seat and run to the other side. As she drives I sit in the back next to Peeta, my hands on his face, smoothing the hair out of his eyes, as he seems to break apart in front of me. 

When we pull into the apartment complex I hear Madge on the phone with Delly, probably seeing if she can crash there. That girl deserves a medal for knowing when to give people their space. We climb the stairs in silence, Madge and I sharing a look that ensures we will talk tomorrow as I lead Peeta inside my place. When I close the door I can hear Delly asking Madge what happened, but thankfully I don’t hear a response. 

Leading Peeta to my bedroom, I sit him down on my bed, before going about collecting bandages and peroxide to clean his knuckles with. He sits silently as I clean his hands, his normally expressive blue eyes dull and lifeless. When I’m finished I sit next to him, pulling him up to the headboard next to me, where he finally breaks his stone like mode. 

His head comes to rest on my chest, and I rest my nose in his hair, wrapping my arms around him the best I can. These roles had been reversed a little over a day and a half ago, and I wasn’t sure what it really meant. Now as I am sitting here holding this beautiful broken boy, who I just saw live out his nightmare, I feel a surge of protectiveness. My resolve is wavering so quickly but at this moment I can’t over think it. He consumes me right now, more so than he did before. He told me he was broken, as broken as I am, but until tonight there had been no signs. We had a lopsided affair, focusing on my problems, my turmoil, but maybe that’s why he’s allowing me to comfort him right now. The fact that he knows I’m not going to run away scared from this. How could I? It’s tearing me apart to feel him sobbing against my chest. But I can’t help but think that if he is somehow the only person who has been able to really help me, maybe I can help him. Maybe we can both get better together. 

“Katniss, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He finally breaks his silence, between heaving sobs, and I feel my own eyes watering at how fucking broken he sounds. It’s tearing my heart apart. 

I kiss the top of his head before responding. 

“Peeta you have nothing to be sorry for.” I say, repeating his words to me from when he comforted me after my nightmare. 

“I could have hurt you. If I had hurt you I would have never….” His words dissolve into more body wracking sobs, and I cling to him as hard as I can. 

“You didn’t hurt me, and while we’re on the subject, I believe, I truly believe you would never hurt me. You had control until Chaff pushed you. He hit you first.” 

He is silent at my words, working on controlling himself for a few minutes, before bringing his head off of my chest. He leans back against the headboard next to me, and I turn my body to face him, my hand on his chest. He looks up at the ceiling as if he is looking for answers up there, before he takes a deep breath to speak. 

“I promised myself I wouldn’t lose it like that ever again.”

I wind my arm around his, laying my head on his shoulder. 

“I don’t think it really works like that.” I mumble.

“I wish it did.”

“Me too.” 

“I’m so tired of this shit. It makes me feel like a monster.” I lift my head off of his shoulder, crawling into his lap. 

“You are the furthest thing from a monster, Peeta. I know real life monsters, and you are definitely not one.” He sighs deeply, resting his head on mine. 

“What if I lose control around you? I know you say it won’t happen but what if it did?” 

“You won’t.” I can tell he is surprised at the finality in my tone when I answer, and frankly so am I. “You won’t because you haven’t given up on trying to keep control. When you give up and don’t care is when you lost complete control.” 

“Is that what happened with you?” His voice is barely a whisper, he’s afraid to ask such an intimate question I guess. Did I give up? Yeah. A long time ago and I’ve been spiraling in and out of the fucking depths since. Swallowing the lump in my throat I answer, barely audible. 

“Yes.”

He shifts our bodies, until we are lying down facing each other, wrapped around each other, the closeness something we both need badly. 

“Do you want to start trying again?” 

Do I? I don’t even remember what it’s like to give a shit, which is probably why the emotions Peeta brings out of me surprise me at every turn. Because I care, and I have a reason, for the first time in a long fucking time. 

“Yeah, I guess I do. It’s scary as shit though.”

His hand comes to rest on my face as we lay there, his forehead pressing against mine. 

“Yeah I know but I’ll be here.” 

The strangest part of that is that I know he will be. I’ve barely known him for a month but already I can’t imagine a day without him. And instead of scaring me shitless because of this need for him I’ve somehow developed, the only scary thing is the idea of losing him. I can never lose him. I don’t think I’d survive it. 

I nudge my forehead more firmly against his, taking his shirt in my hands, pulling my body as close to his as I possibly can. Not being close to him right now isn’t an option, my body is craving it, and my mind needs it. Not it. Him. 

I kiss him softly, a soft sound emitting from the back of my throat. Peeta’s hand snakes up around my backside, and as the kiss slowly builds my leg hitches around his hip, pressing us together fully. 

Maybe it wasn’t time that I needed before I could be with Peeta. It was a grasp on what it is that he is to me. Or the self-realization that I’m falling for him. That I’m falling in love with him so quickly. That I need him like I need air. 

The kiss builds slowly, our mouths finally parting open to deepen the kiss as we both breathe in through our noses for air. It’s as if we can’t part, as if even breathing is a hindrance. My hands release his shirt, opting to weave themselves into Peeta’s hair as I use my leg that is hitched over his to roll us over so he is on top of me. 

As our tongues meet, Peeta’s hand slides down, hitching my leg up higher around his waist as he begins to grind slowly into me. I moan into his mouth, a high-pitched needy sound, as our tongues slowly work over each other. This kiss isn’t urgent; it’s patient, full of need and care. This is like nothing I have ever experienced and I have never been so fucking turned on. 

I slowly work my hands from Peeta’s hair down his back, to the end of his shirt, tugging on it. Taking the hint, he sits up, his eyes never leaving mine, before he slowly takes it off, tossing it on the floor beside the bed. My hands act on their own accord as they reach up and run themselves over his torso, my eyes drawn to that fucking happy trail of his like a magnet, until I rediscover his eyes. 

My hands come to rest on his hips, done with their exploration, while his come to rest at the edge of my shirt, his eyes asking me if he can continue. Sitting up, we take my shirt off together, and I reach around slowly to take off my bra. I hate bras anyways, I don’t like wearing them, and I’m especially upset at their existence now when I could already be unclothed instead of having to deal with this shit. 

Once it’s off Peeta and I sit, breathing heavily, taking in what it is that’s happening. 

Well Peeta’s eyes are more so taking in my tits, but that is more than okay with me. They’re small so I’m glad he likes them or seems to. 

Once Peeta breaks out of his trance, his eyes come to rest on mine once again, full of what I would explain as tenderness. 

“Katniss.” He breathes my name. “Are you sure?” 

I nod my head, and I can see Peeta swallow slowly, surely as nervous as I am.

And then my fucking mouth starts to move without my mind’s consent. 

“Peeta, I think I’m falling in love with you.” 

And it feels like everything stops.

Shit.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know this took forever, therefore this chapter is more fluff than angst. Because there is so much angst left to be had and there needs to be fluff.

He stares at me for what seems to be a lifetime. I feel my heart as it actively tries to escape my body via my asshole. 

What.  
The.  
Fuck.   
Was.  
That. 

I don’t….. 

I have never……. 

........Said anything in the heat of passion. Forget saying something like what I have just said. 

Fuck. What did I just say? “I think I’m falling in love with you?” Fuck. 

I watch as his chest heaves up and down, his breathing seeming laborious, like he’s trying to not have a panic attack. 

Holy shit I caused him to have a panic attack by telling him I may be in love with him. That’s not the best scenario I could have imagined. It's a little fucked up actually. 

But then, after what feels like hours, (but is probably only a few moments), his hands are on my face, his eyes boring into my own.

“Katniss, God. That’s amazing especially after tonight and how I completely just lost it. I am in love with you. Take all the time you need getting there but just so you know, I’m already there.” 

I feel my body shudder as I sigh. I’m about to respond before Peeta’s mouth is on mine in what I am absolutely positive is the most passionately and emotionally filled kiss I have ever experienced. Not that I have a plethora of experiences lying around to compare, but I digress. 

I wrap my arms around his neck, both of us still sitting on our knees on my bed. Peeta’s hands slip down my bare back into the back of my pants, his hands gently kneading my ass. I’ve never had the time during sex for this kind of sensuous discovery of each others bodies. I’ve always known I’m good at what I do, but I’ve only been interested in throwaways, the kind of men I could fuck and have absolutely no feelings towards. But as his hands continue their work and as my bare chest presses against his I feel excited. I want to know his body, not just what it can do for me I guess, even though I am extremely interested in that as well. 

All the feelings I usually work so hard to keep in check are flying freely right now, my ability to control them minimal, if even functional. Without thinking I break away from him, sliding off of my bed in order to remove my pants, because they aren’t necessary at this point and I’m really annoyed by them right now anyways. Peeta, who had been initially startled by my sudden Houdini act, now has his eyes trained on me as I kick all of my remaining clothing away and let my hair down. 

“Your turn.” I finally manage to say after I let him gape at me being naked. It’s really only fueling my fire, really. His head snaps up at my voice and he jumps off the bed immediately, and follows my lead, getting naked as quickly as possible. 

And oh. 

Oh, oh, oh.

Oh, is he is absolutely beautiful. I already knew this of course, really anyone with eyes would be able to say the same shit, (and I am including blind people in this sentiment). But seeing him like this, and all Abercrombie model but adorable instead of douche-y, with an absolutely perfectly sized cock is just… oh. I don’t even fucking realize I’m blatantly staring at him until he clears his throat. 

“Uh so I know I’m not like huge or anything-“

He stops abruptly when my hand shoots up in front of his face like I’m a goddamn crosswalk guard, and watches as my eyes return to his dick. 

“Shut up. You have the most perfect cock ever.”

I blush furiously as I say my words of affirmation, even though my words are no longer something I’m in control of so there’s really no point in trying to not say them at this point. Peeta remains quiet for some time, before crossing over to me, and pressing himself against me fully. He lifts me suddenly and sets me on the bed, crawling in after me, before coming to hover over my body. 

“Katniss.” He says my name roughly, kissing up and down my neck as his dick grinds against me, probably completely drenching himself because of how goddamn wet I am while I moan in response to him saying my name. I feel my back arch, and the way my chest pushes against his so forcefully it’s almost uncomfortable as a result takes speaking any kind of words right off the table. I’m kind of moaning and babbling incoherently at the moment but he doesn’t seem to mind.

When I feel him slide his tip against my opening, I let out a strangled noise, like if he doesn’t fuck me right now I’m going to die, and honestly at this moment I’m pretty sure that is absolutely one hundred percent the case. He’s panting almost with how hard he is trying to hold back, his back sweaty already without anything having happened really. 

“Katniss. I want to take my time with you, I really do but please can I just……” Peeta doesn’t finish what he’s trying to say, probably because my legs have fallen further open and he had to groan for a moment, but that’s just a guess. 

“Do whatever you need to do Peeta.” I hold his cheeks in my hands so he is forced to look at me and not burrow in against my shoulder. After receiving my permission he takes absolutely no time whatsoever, slamming into me so hard it takes my breath away. 

And immediately I’m hooked on this sex with feelings thing. Or, more specifically, this sex with Peeta thing, because dear lord. 

His eyes are on mine and it’s just so different, it’s so much more intense, and it feels so fucking good. My chest feels like it’s going to explode, like that scene in the Grinch where his heart grows three sizes, and you have to wonder how does his chest not rip open? 

That’s when I can’t control myself at all any longer. (Because I was doing so well at it before). I wrap my legs around him as tightly as I can, using them to pull myself up into him as hard as I can, my eyes never leaving his. The sounds we are both making are guttural in the most literal way.

That is until the sounds I am making rise an octave or two……. Or three. 

Peeta’s hands leave their place clutching the sheets beside my head and snake underneath me; coming up under my shoulders, and immediately he begins to use the position to pull me down into him even harder, My eyes roll back in my head, and my eyes lids shutter closed reflexively. As a result I slip into an old habit of just…. Feeling. Feeling what it is that is happening with my body at this exact moment, blocking out everything else. Except I’m not blocking out everything else. I’m completely aware that it’s Peeta who is causing me to feel this way, and combined with the heightened sense thanks to having my eyes closed it’s almost too much. When I feel his mouth on mine, my eyes open instantly, watching as his blue eyes watch me. And I’m fucking done. I come so hard I feel like the breath has been knocked out of me, my toes tingling as my entire body jerks Emily Rose style. Apparently this is what Peeta needed to happen because he comes too, groaning so loudly that I’m sure my neighbors, (Delly. Oh shit Delly and Madge can probably hear this) can hear him. 

He falls onto me, his body melting into mine, as my fingers trace his back slowly, while I try to even my breathing out. (And stop the weird high pitched half moans I’m still doing because what the fuck are those?)

When Peeta starts chuckling however, my fingers stop their movements. 

“What?” I ask him urgently. When he doesn’t answer me and keeps on laughing I slap his back and ask him the same thing again, a little less amused. 

“Nothing, nothing I swear.” He finally answers, sliding out of me and pushing himself up on his arms. He pushes some hair out of my face and kisses me quickly. 

“That was just fucking amazing is all. And I love you.” He’s grinning at me like an idiot on Christmas morning, and I can’t help but smile back at him. I can’t quite reply with the same words yet so instead I lean up and kiss him, nuzzling my nose against his as I pull away. He sighs contentedly, rolling over and pulling me with him. 

Going to bed wrapped around Peeta is becoming a habit, and it’s one I enjoy I’ve decided. I hug him tightly and sling my leg over his hip, and I can feel him smiling into my hair. 

“We are going to do that again and again and again.” He finally says after a few moments of silence. 

“You bet your hot ass we are.” I giggle before replying to him, my eyes closed as I drift off to sleep. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wake up the next morning to the sun rays peeking in through my window, blinding me momentarily and souring my mood, until I remember who is curled around me, snoring quietly. I wriggle my ass into him and smile when I feel his predictable morning half wood begin to harden. Peeta grumbles slightly, tightening his grip around me before smacking his lips loudly. 

“What are you doing?” He mumbles into my skin and I wriggle my ass once more before turning around in his arms. 

“Nothing.” I grin at him, reaching up to push his hair out of his eyes. He smiles at me, the corners of his eyes crinkling, before they close as he leans in to kiss me. When he pulls back, his nose is scrunched up, and his eyes are smiling. 

“Nice morning breath.” He says before busting out laughing at what be my face. 

“Thanks asshole, you say that like yours is minty fresh.” 

I know I’m scowling but he laughs anyways, a loud long laugh. Suddenly he rolls over on top of me, holding himself up, his hair dangling off of his forehead and tickling mine. 

“You were so nice the last time we woke up together, what happened?” 

I start laughing at him, and roll my eyes, until he settles his hips against mine. I stop laughing pretty quickly then. 

“So last night was amazing.” He says quietly, and I can’t help but to smile. Reaching up to tuck some of his hair behind his ear I respond. 

“Yeah, it kind of was.”

He smiles at me before leaning down and resting his body fully against mine. His lips meet mine in a long, slow, heated (? I am sure that’s the right way to describe this because it is hot), kiss, his hips slowly beginning to move against mine. When he pulls back he sighs lowly. 

“Good morning.” I whisper to him, before pulling him down to me once again. He tries to say it back to me, but it’s muffled and we both smile into the kiss. I feel how hard he is against me and I roll my hips against him. After a few moments he pulls his lips from mine and begins to slowly shift down my body. 

“Katniss?” He says, muffled as he lightly kisses the space in between my breasts. 

“Hmm?” I answer, enjoying the feeling of whatever it is that he is doing. 

“What are the chances that you have eggs or milk or basic ingredients?”

“Um well if it can’t be cooked in the microwave or on the George Foreman then I don’t have it.” I reply sheepishly, smiling as he looks at me like I have three heads. Suddenly he’s up and off of me, pulling on his pants. 

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” I ask as he searches for his shirt. 

After he has located it he turns to look at me. 

“Well I want to make you breakfast in bed but I can’t unless I have the right ingredients. There’s a store right next to this place, it won’t take me more than 10 minutes.”

I scowl at him and he laughs, coming over to me to kiss my forehead. 

“But I don’t want you to make me breakfast in bed, I want you to stay in bed with me.” I pout. (Again, what the actual fuck am I doing and also who am I?)

Instead of complying with my wishes however, Peeta grins at me and stands up. 

“You’ll need food in your system for all the things I have planned for you. Plus I just really want to do this.” 

He looks so eager I can’t help but fold. Plus I am hungry. 

“Fine but when breakfast is done your ass gets right back in here with me.” 

At this he laughs and begins to head towards my bedroom door.

“I wouldn’t dream of going anywhere else.” He says as he saunters out, and my eyes latch onto his ass in his jeans as he disappears from my view. 

When I hear the door close I sigh and roll over in my bed, reaching over the side to grab a pair of discarded sweatpants and an old sleep shirt. I wriggle them on under the covers and lay in bed for a moment before finding my phone on the nightstand next to me. I text Madge, telling her that Peeta ran to the store really quickly, and that she has a ten minute window to get her ass over here and talk before he comes back. There’s a knock at my door almost immediately and I don’t make a move from my bed before I hear the door open She appears in my doorway almost instantly, crossing over and plopping down onto the top of the comforter I’m lying beneath. 

“So dirty girl, from what I heard last night Peeta really rocked your world.” She’s grinning at me like and idiot and I feel myself blush. 

“Fuck. I didn’t mean for everyone to hear that.” 

“Oh Peeta, Fuck, Peeta!” Madge screams dramatically in what can only be described as a porn star voice before falling into a fit of laughter. I try to be stern and annoyed at her but it ends up failing and I find myself chuckling as well. 

“Oh shut up. It was really really good. I can’t be held accountable for the sounds I made. Delly will probably want to move soon if he keeps it up.” 

“Oh I’m sure he’ll keep it up.” Madge replies, her eyebrows waggling. Rolling my eyes I reach for a pillow and smack her upside her head. 

“Hey!” she screams after the pillow makes contact. “I am super hung over, no pillow fights please!” I drop the pillow and speak up.

“Yeah, what was that last night? Why didn’t you tell me you were going to Chaff’s party?” 

Madge’s eyes dart to the comforter and she begins to play with a fuzz resting on it. 

“I don’t know. I feel guilty telling you I’m going over there to hang out with them, so sometimes I just don’t say anything about it.” 

I’m quiet for a moment. The way she’s talking makes it clear that going to a party at Chaff’s isn’t a new thing, and I know I have no right to even ask her not to go, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt a little. Or a lot. 

“Yeah I guess I understand.” I’m quiet when I respond and Madge’s head snaps up. 

“I’m sorry Katniss. I know you don’t like them.” 

“Your right. I don’t.” I say evenly. “They’re kind of shitty people.” I don’t look at her when I say this. I know I can be the shittiest of people, but I also know that if anyone treated Madge the way those people treated me, I wouldn’t give them a second thought. I don’t say that though, because what right do I have to chastise her, after everything? 

“Not all of them are. I mean Chaff and his crew are for sure but there are some other people that go to those things that I’m still friends with I guess.” 

I can’t even begin to figure out who she’s talking about, and I think I know, deep in my gut that she’s bullshitting me, but what’s a lie between friends?

“Yeah I know. You worry me when you do shit like that though. Get drunk and need a ride with a dying phone. Even I’m more responsible. Sometimes.” I smile at her, trying to break the tension I feel between us, but am probably imagining. She doesn’t know just how upset it makes me that she still apparently hangs out with these people, and I don’t feel like bringing it up now. Or ever. I’m too afraid of where that conversation would lead. 

“I promise to tell you from now on. I know you worry about me just like I worry about you. It’s what we do.” 

At her statement I smile at her. Yeah, it’s what we do alright. More she worries about me and I get fucked up but whatever. 

“So, Peeta’s at the store?” She asks me after a few moments. I smile at her and nod. 

“Yeah, apparently, after fucking my brains out last night, he also wants to make me breakfast, but was appalled to find out I have no breakfast food other than microwavable bacon.” 

Madge snorts at my explanation to my… boyfriends absence and rolls her eyes. 

“You never have real food. He’s going to spoil the shit out of you cooking like this.” 

“That’s the plan.” I say, smirking at her. She laughs before getting up off my bed and stretching. 

“Well, I’ve leave you to your dirty day in bed. Call me later?” She asks. I nod at her, confirming that I will and she turns to leave. I almost stop her to tell her that Peeta is my boyfriend and we became all official and shit last night, but something stops me. I push away the thought that its because I’m mad that she still hangs out with the people from high school I hate so much, and decide instead that I don’t want to jinx the newness of it all. 

When I hear the door shut signaling Madge’s departure, I finagle myself out of my clothing once again, lying under the sheets and waiting for Peeta to return, which he does only minutes later. I hear the sound of whisking in the kitchen and the sound of groceries being deposited on the counter before he finally makes his way back into my room. 

He pokes his head in and smiles at finding me in the same place he left me. 

“Breakfast will be served shortly.” He says and I smile at him. 

“And then you get your ass back in bed?” I ask, and he laughs. 

“Yes. I promise.” I smile at him as he scurries off into the kitchen, and try to relax as I wait for breakfast, pushing any lingering unease from my conversation with Madge out of my mind for now.

Because why be upset when there’s a gorgeous man making me breakfast in my kitchen? 

I think this is what Haymitch, or any other shrink really, would call “progress”.

And I don’t hate it.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a chapter that lays the groundwork for where I want to go with this story. Also Katniss needed some emotional development or something. Also it introduces some stuff for what I'm calling "Part Two" in my head. Enjoy!

“Absolutely not.” 

I am adamant in my refusal, but like the ass wipe he is, Haymitch just looks at me with an amused expression. This is only our third session together since he decided seeing me once a week wasn’t enough. Funny how he didn’t ask my opinion on that, he just sort of shows up like he knows my schedule. I’m beginning to think my new boyfriend of less than two weeks has something to do with that. 

“Well sweetheart, you won’t tell me anything about you and loverboy, and you haven’t answered any of my other questions so either you start talking or I’m calling in reinforcements.” 

I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up as I grit my teeth. 

“I. Am. Not. Calling. My. Mother.” 

I emphasize each word so he’ll get it through his fucking head, but he’s still looking at me with a shit-eating grin. If I knew where the fuck we were I would bolt out of here so fast I would make the road runner from those damn cartoons look slow. However I let him talk me into “going out into nature” and now I’m on this hiking trail that is confusing as fuck. I’m stuck and I am verging on a full on rage. 

Haymitch opens his mouth to speak again but I hold my hand up directly in his face, immediately causing his eyes to narrow and a scowl to take the place of his smirk.

“Ask anything else. Literally. Anything. Want me to go run naked through the green on campus? Or impale myself on a stake? I’ll do it, I don’t care, but I am not fucking calling her.” 

Even I can hear the finality of my tone but either he is fucking deaf to emotion-ridden words or he is choosing to ignore me. I’m one hundred percent certain it’s the latter. 

“Listen up. She’s the only family you have left, and from what you told me about her letter you probably don’t have all the time in world to make amends. Clocks ticking so to speak.” 

His words are harsh. I knew I shouldn’t have opened that damn letter, but when Peeta was looking for a pad of paper and found it I gave into my curiosity. 

What on earth would be so important that she would write me after such an agreeable silence? 

Having lung cancer I guess. 

She told me in a letter that she has advanced lung cancer, probably from all the damn cigarettes she smoked in between having me and Prim, and asked if I would come home to visit. I was perfectly fine ignoring the letter and it’s pleas but Peeta read it after I did and has been harping on me to do something about it. So I did. I told Haymitch. And now he’s telling me to go see her, or at least call her. To any sensible person this seems like a perfectly reasonable response, but for someone with my emotional stability he might as well just asked me to go jump off a cliff into a pit of venomous snakes. 

He knows his words have my mind reeling, and I watch as he crosses his arms over his chest smugly. He thinks he’s won, but I’m not going down without a fight. 

“What if I don’t want to make fucking amends? Ever consider that?” I can feel my nostrils flaring and I know I sound like a petulant child but I don’t fucking care. 

“Well what if in this instance what you want doesn’t really matter, you fucking stubborn child, ever think about that? She birthed you and raised you, regardless of if you think she did a shit job.” He rolls his eyes before lighting the cigarette he has had tucked behind his ear our entire hike. 

“You are the least professional fucking person I’ve ever known.” It’s all I can say because I don’t really know how to respond to him. 

My Dad was alive for most of my formative years, and the years he wasn’t my mom was pretty much just a bill payer, and she couldn’t really even do that correctly. I don’t know why I don’t tell Haymitch this, but I have a nagging feeling it’s because he would use it against me somehow. Probably point out our similarities or some shit. If there is one thing I inherited from my mother it’s the ability to go comatose when something emotional happens. 

Choosing to look anywhere but at Haymitch I sit down and lean back against a tree on the path. I sigh and bring my knees into my chest so I can rest my forehead. I don’t want to see my mother. I don’t think I can. I really don’t think I can go back to my hometown, a place that holds every single one of my bad memories like a fucked up time capsule. 

I feel Haymitch crouch down next to me and I wince, waiting for whatever biting remark he’s about to send my way, but he surprises me by laying an awkward hand down on my back before patting me twice. I think it’s his way of comforting me. 

“Look I know you are probably scared shitless about the idea of ripping those wounds fresh open. You’ve been through a lot of shit. More than most people go through in their entire lives. But she has too. Actually you know what? Forget about doing it for her, and do it for future you instead. Because you’ll regret it if you don’t even hear her voice one more time. Trust me on that alright sweetheart?” 

I peer out from under my hair at his face, the seriousness of what he has said actually working it’s way on my resolve. Fucking. Haymitch. 

Peeta said Haymitch was good at making you do things you never thought you would do. Like calling my mother. That’s definitely something I never thought I would ever do, but as I sit here with the grass making my ass sweaty, I am considering it, because for the first time in years I actually give a shit about “future Katniss” and what her life will be like. 

I sigh, a deep and heavy one that makes my shoulders sag and Haymitch helps me up when I offer him my hand. Wiping off my ass and my back he watches silently before I offer him a withering glance. 

“I’ll think about it okay?” 

He nods, seemingly pleased by this. 

“Will you take me home now?” I ask and he rolls his eyes before leading me back down the trail. All I want is to go home and crawl under the covers, and the faster we get out of here the closer I get to that reality. 

__________________

When Haymitch drops me off outside of my building, I scamper up the stairs two a time in my eagerness to put this day behind me. When I reach my front door I see a piece of paper folded and taped up, and I rip it down quickly, hoping management isn’t sending me a noise warning or something. 

Peeta and I try to keep it down. Mostly. 

When I open it up and see Peeta’s handwriting I smile a little to myself. I’m still not entirely over the weirdness I feel when I do things like “smile to myself” at the thought of him, but it’s a good kind of weird. One I never really expected if I’m being completely honest. 

“Katniss, 

I’ve decided I’m taking you out tonight. On a date. Get dressed; I’ll be here at 6:30 to pick you up. Don’t try to get out of it. It’s happening. 

Love, Peeta” 

Underneath his note is a silly picture of what I’m assuming is him, dragging me out of my house while I fight him to stay inside. Boy does he know me. 

When I finally get into my apartment I immediately hop in the shower to get rid of the grime that encompasses today. Afterwards, I take a moment to look longingly at my bed before going about picking an outfit. I have no idea what one wears on a date, and I briefly consider calling Madge for help, but decide against it. I don’t know why exactly, because this is usually the thing she helps me out with but ever since the other night I’ve felt…. Weird calling her. I wish I could snap myself out of it, because she really hasn’t done anything wrong but I can’t help the feeling of resentment I get when I think about the position she put me in, or of how it affected Peeta. 

Groaning I make my way to Delly’s, knocking on the door. When she throws the door open a moment later she looks confused to see me and I sigh. 

“I need help.” 

Her eyebrows furrow. 

“Oooookay with what exactly?” She looks interested. This isn’t something that happens. Usually our interactions are more.. alcohol fueled. 

“Picking out something to wear. I don’t know what people wear on dates.” I mumble and look down at my shoes, which have suddenly become really interesting. 

“Katniss I’m pretty sure you could wear a paper sack and Peeta would think you looked amazing.” 

I feel my cheeks darken, because other people talking about Peeta and I still makes me extremely uncomfortable, if not defensive, but I did come over here and ask for help. 

“I just…. This is our first official date and I haven’t ever been on one andIwanttolooknice.” I speak quickly, embarrassed at even having to admit to Delly that I’ve never been on a date before, and after a few moments of silence I glance up to see her beaming at me. Well, it’s not pity at least. 

“Oh my god Katniss, you want to dress up for him! I never thought this day would come.” She looks fucking downright giddy and I am kicking myself for coming over here. I will never hear the fucking end of this. She will follow me to my grave reminding me of this moment, I am sure of it. 

“Yeah well can you help me or not?” I’m being snappy but Delly must expect it by now because she just rolls her eyes before grabbing my arm and dragging me back into my apartment. 

She’s silent as she digs through my closet and I sit on my bed watching her pull out certain items before putting them back up just as quickly. After a few minutes I am fairly positive that she won’t find anything she approves of in there, but I hear her say “Yes” excitedly under her breath. That only makes me nervous because I have no idea what on earth in my closet could excite Delly Cartwright, but when she pulls out a simple deep blue dress I feel relieved. 

It’s my closet, it’s not like there’s something in there I didn’t consciously buy, so I don’t know what I was worried about but whatever. 

She turns around and waggles her eyebrows at me and I look at her skeptically. 

“This will bring out the grey in your eyes. Leave your hair down. Put on some eyeliner. Do that smoky eye thing you do sometimes and wear those black fuck me heels. You’ll knock him dead I promise.” 

I nod and make a mental note to do everything she has said and take the dress from her. I expect her to leave but instead she plops down on my bed and watches me in anticipation. 

She wants to see the finished product. Right. 

I quickly change into the dress, glad I already thought to put on a bra and thong that match, and take down my damp hair. I sit on the floor next to my mirror and begin to blow dry it while Delly flips through an issue of Rolling Stone Peeta left here the other day. When I’m finally done applying my makeup and my hair is somewhat presentable, I slip on my heels and clear my throat to get her attention. 

Her eyes light up, which I take as a good sign.

“Fuck Katniss, you are unfairly sexy. Like it’s a vibe you give off or something.” 

I grin at her. 

“Thanks Delly, but I already have a date for tonight.” 

“What time will he be here?” She asks rolling her eyes at me, and coming over to wipe some smudged mascara off of my face. 

Glancing towards the clock I see that it’s already 6:15 and I try and push down the anxiety rushing up into my chest. 

“Uh in 15 minutes.” I murmur and Delly stands back to give me one final once over while I stand awkwardly silent. 

“Well he’s going to lose his shit. You look great. Let me know how it goes.” She smiles sweetly at me and I follow her out to my door.

“Yeah I will. Thanks Delly.” 

She smiles at me and waves me off like this isn’t a big deal, which I guess it really isn’t. It just feels that way to me because this isn’t something I normally do, but then again the fact that I have a boyfriend and haven’t had a drink yet today is something I don’t usually do either. 

Sitting down on my couch I notice my knee shaking and put my hand on it so stop it. 

“You’re being a fucking idiot.” I chastise myself. “He has seen you naked. Why the fuck are you nervous about him taking you on a date you twat?” 

When the self-deprecation doesn’t work I decide that a single drink couldn’t hurt. Instead of going straight for my liquor cabinet though I decide a beer would probably be a better choice. For Peeta’s sake. He is just trying to do something a normal boyfriend does with a normal girlfriend, so at the very least I can be sober. Or as sober as someone as medicated as I am can be. 

I’ve barely taken a single sip when I hear him knock on my door. Setting the bottle down I nervously smooth my hands out over my dress and adjust my cleavage. Taking a deep breath I open the door to find him standing on the other side. 

I immediately decide I like dates if it means I get to see Peeta in a suit. He looks amazing, his suit obviously tailored to fit his form, his green tie making me smile. I recently told him it was my favorite color, and it looks like he was really paying attention. His eyes are shining and I see him swallow as he takes in my outfit. 

God bless Delly Cartwright for being Delly Cartwright. 

“Wow. You look…. Wow.” It’s all he says and I grin at him. We must seem like two middle school kids going to their first dance, but any nervousness I had 15 seconds ago is gone so I don’t care what we look like. 

“You too. You look amazing.” I say, grabbing my purse off the back of the door before closing it behind us. After I lock it I turn to face him to begin our trek down the stairs but he surprises me by pushing me back against my door. His mouth is on mine instantly and I’m so shocked that at first my eyes don’t close. When his tongue meets mine my eyelids flutter shut and my hands grip the lapel of his coat jacket, pulling him closer to me. When he pulls away he chuckles and I follow suit. 

“Sorry, you just look really great. Thanks for not cancelling.” His grin makes my heart melt, and I push some of his wayward hair out of his eyes. 

“Never apologize for kissing me. And it’s hard to cancel plans when you don’t know what they are.” I tease him and he smirks, taking my hand and leading me down the stairs, going slowly since I’m in heels. 

When we’re both finally settled in his car and pulling out of the parking lot I can’t not ask him what’s going on anymore. 

“So what are we doing? I’ve never been on one of these date things before you know.” 

Peeta smiles at me, the soft one he reserves for me when I tell him something he knows I’m most likely insecure about, and takes my hand in his free one. 

“You’ll see, I promise it’s nothing crazy.” 

I realize he isn’t going to tell me what’s going on and resign myself to just wait it out. Peeta knows me terrifyingly well after the short amount of time that we’ve known each other, so I trust him, I think to myself. That in itself is shocking, and it makes me turn my head to look at him and take him in as he hums (badly) along with the song on the radio. 

When he notices me staring at him, he laughs.

“What? Am I off tune?” 

I grin in response. 

“No. Well, I mean, yes you are, but that’s not why I’m staring. I guess I just realized I trust you. I don’t usually trust people. I’m really surprised that little cartoon you drew out didn’t actually come to fruition if I’m being honest.” 

The look he gives me is one so intense I feel myself get turned on instantaneously. 

Instead of responding he gently raises my knuckles to his mouth and kisses them before turning his attention back to the road, and his humming. I continue to watch him, my body humming in a weird way I never experienced until I met him. There are a lot of things about myself I never fully realized or allowed myself to entertain until I met him though, so one day I guess I’ll just have to stop being surprised by any of it, but not today. Today I’ll revel in the fact that a few hours ago I wanted to bury myself in a blanket mountain but now all I want to do is go wherever he’s taking me simply because it means I’m with him. 

Falling in love is just weird I think, as I smile to myself. But it’s a good weird. 

\-----------------------

Our date isn’t anything particularly fancy. Peeta is a college student after all and can’t afford the type of grand thing I’m sure he would have much rather done but I think it’s absolutely perfect. He’s put a lot of thought into it I can tell. 

His green tie. The Italian restaurant he takes me to outside of the “college” part of town so I don’t feel as self-conscious. The way he drapes his jacket over my shoulders when he notices we’re sitting under an air vent. But the best part of the date, my favorite part, is when he takes back to the abandoned house. We sit on the back porch huddled under a blanket together as we star gaze and he points out constellations to me. 

He’s just finishing up a thorough, not to mention absolutely ridiculous story about how he once tried to build a ladder to catch a star when he was a child, when a bolt of heat lightening scares me shitless. I had been watching the stars when it flashed, and it shocked me so much that I jumped into his lap on accident. 

I look at him sheepishly and begin to climb off and back into my original place next to him when he wraps his arms around me, securing me in my place instead. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks me quietly, and I bring my hand up to run it through his hair. 

“No where. I’m staying right here.” I say and I can feel my heart thunder in my chest at the look he is giving me. It’s like the one he gave me in the car. Absolutely breathtaking. 

When our lips meet I can’t help the soft sigh I release at finally getting to taste him again. His stories are amazing and have kept me enthralled all night, but now I don’t want to listen to anymore stories; I want to sit here and kiss him until the sun rises. 

It’s a slow kiss; passionate and full of heat, and when he groans I position myself so that I’m straddling him in order to deepen the kiss. His hands come to rest on my thighs while mine curl into the back of his hair. When I begin to move on top of him slowly, he makes a sort of growling sound that leaves me whimpering. His hands push my dress up my thighs slowly, and I pull away from him breathlessly to help him pull it over my head. He doesn’t immediately return his mouth to mine, instead taking the time to fold my dress up and place down next to us, ensuring that it won’t be ruined. I laugh softly at his actions, but the sound dies in my throat when he begins to kiss the spot where my shoulder and neck meet, biting down every so often just hard enough to make me moan. 

While he kisses his way across my shoulder, I begin to undo the first few buttons of his shirt, thankful he already took off his tie. I feel his hand unclasp my bra, which he sets down on top of my dress. The moment his mouth finds my nipple I abandon the task at hand and my hands return to their place in his hair as I push myself into his mouth. 

He bites down hard, causing me to moan much more loudly than before, and pulls my nipple, stretching it out with his teeth. He repeats the action on my other breast and by the time he’s done I’m panting like I’ve run a marathon. 

Pulling his face up to mine I kiss him like a woman possessed, reaching down between us to undo his belt buckle and the top button on his pants. Understanding what I want he lifts his ass up, pushing his pants down far enough for his dick to spring free. 

Wrapping my hand around him I pump up and down his shaft a few times, as he rests his head against my breasts, watching my hand as it works. 

“Peeta” I whine his name to get his attention and he raises his eyes to meet mine. I lean down to capture his lips once again and he moves the material of my thong to the side so I can lower myself down onto him. 

I move slowly, letting myself sink down onto him, clutching the back of his head as my eyes shut involuntarily. 

“Fuck Katniss. Feels. So. Good.” He grunts out as his hand palms my ass. He lets me take my time, feeling every inch of him inside of me, seemingly happy to just let me sit unmoving. When I open my eyes I’m met by his blue ones, and I rest my forehead against his as I rise up and begin to ride him. 

One of my favorite things about sex with Peeta is the eye contact. It used to be a rule of mine to never make eye contact but now I can’t get enough of the way his pupils dilate when he’s inside of me, or the connection I feel to him as we watch each other come. 

Sex goes great with feelings. Who knew?

As I begin to pick up the pace he lowers his mouth to my nipple once again and I throw my head back at the sensation. It hits me when his hand finds my clit that what we are doing isn’t just sex, and as much as I always detested the phrase “making love” it makes sense to me now. That’s what we are doing. It doesn’t sound so corny to me now, as I feel my thighs begin to shake and my breaths turn to pants. I can’t help but say his name over and over, because really he is the only one who could ever draw this feeling out of me, who could ever make me feel this whole body thing that’s going on. It’s more than just an orgasm now. Sex isn’t just strictly a means to an end. 

I thought I liked sex enough before, but this with Peeta? I fucking love it. 

I feel myself begin to tighten around him, and his free hand grips into my hip so hard I briefly wonder if it’ll bruise. When I come the feeling takes over my body, causing my toes to curl and he isn’t far behind me, shouting my name out into the night as he comes inside of me. 

His arms wrap around my back as I lay my head on his shoulder to regain my breath, and I can’t help the giggle fit I break into. 

“What?” He asks me breathlessly as he draws shapes on my bareback. 

“I was just thinking that I really, really, like dates.” I say into his neck, and he guffaws loudly before laying back, bringing me with him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story can be hard to write sometimes, which is why the updates can be sparse. I'm sorry about that, really I am.

Summer session is coming to a close finally, and while usually that means I’m excited about the two weeks off before fall classes pick up, this time around I feel some weird sort of impending doom constantly following me around. 

Things with Peeta have been great so I know it’s not that, but as is normal, I’m trying really hard to ignore the real reason for the sickening feeling. 

I haven’t had a serious full-fledged conversation with Madge in weeks. Haymitch won’t let up on the going to see my mother thing. I feel like the door of darkness in my brain is opening slowly, and I’m pushing against it with all of my might to keep from letting it fully open, but it’s a battle I’m losing. 

That’s probably why I find myself laying in bed for the second day straight, pill bottles littering my nightstand, a bottle of Jack securely tucked into my arms, and my phone turned off somewhere out in my living room. I know I’m probably scaring Peeta shitless, annoying Haymitch and worrying Madge, but I don’t fucking care. I don’t have the energy to deal with any of them right now, and every time I hear a car door slam downstairs I mentally prepare myself to ignore whichever one it is that shows up at my door. 

So far none of them have, which I’m equally grateful and baffled by, but it has only been two days, and I’ve been known to go silent for weeks at a time before. 

Heaving myself up to sit I reach over to my small mountain of pills, taking a few Xanax before grabbing my cigarettes and forcing myself to make my way out to the balcony. 

I wish I could smoke in my room but apparently that is frowned on by management. 

Sitting down in my broken chair I prop my feet up and prepare myself for a long chain smoking session when I hear the sounds of Delly talking through her open door next to me. I hold off on lighting my cigarette when I hear the voice that accompanies hers, somewhat surprised to realize it’s Madge. 

“Well you can’t know if she’s mad at you unless you ask Madge.” I hear Delly say, and the sinking in my stomach lets me know they are most likely talking about me. Fucking wonderful. I try to not focus on the fact that my best friend is next door talking about me when I’ve been less than communicative with her lately, but it’s hard to ignore. 

“Dell I’ve known her since we were kids. I know when she’s mad, it’s just never been at me.” Madge sighs and I feel a twinge of guilt. Yes I am mad at her, and no I don’t really want to talk about it, but she probably deserves better treatment on my part considering all the shit she’s stood by me through. 

“Well from what you’ve told me about those people I can’t say I’m not on her side.” Delly says and I frown. I wonder if Madge told her what exactly those people did that made me hate them so much. 

“Yeah they suck when it comes to her. I know. That’ why I never bring them around or hang out with them when I’m with her. She takes priority, but still, they’re my friends. I know they can be shitty but they’ve never been shitty to me, and you know her Delly, but you can’t imagine how it was in high school. She’s been tame since she met Peeta, but the way she acted before was exactly how she was in high school, just the fishbowl was a hell of a lot smaller. Everyone knew and she just didn’t care. What that douchebag did filming her wasn’t cool at all, and I’ve never talked to him again but I can’t help but think it was going to happen eventually anyways you know?” Madge says, her voice lowering to an almost whisper at the end. 

“Madge, you don’t mean that. Plenty of people party and do drugs and have unattached sex but no one deserves to be tormented about it. It’s not like she harmed anyone else, and they hurt her a hell of a lot just to get a laugh out of it. Didn’t you say she tried to kill herself after? I get that you don’t want to give up the people you’ve known your whole life but shit, that kind of bullying isn’t something I would want to associate myself with.” Delly responds, and I find myself more thankful for Delly at the moment than for Madge. 

I can’t believe she told someone all of this shit about me. The video, the overdose that I’ve never actually admitted was an attempted suicide, how she feels like I brought it all on myself. 

I mean that’s what I believed for a long time, but she always told me I was wrong. Why would she lie about it? Why not tell me what she honestly thought instead of trying to make me get help and get better? 

It’s silent for a long time in the apartment, long enough that I take a long drink out of the bottle I’m carrying, before some one speaks up again. 

“Sometimes I just get so tired of having to worry that one day she won’t be here anymore. Her life has been rough and it’s not like I can tell her to just suck that shit up but sometimes it would be nice to just have a normal best friend.” Madge admits and I hear Delly sigh heavily. 

I stand as quickly and as quietly as I can before I run back into my apartment. I can’t hear anymore of that conversation. I’ve always marveled at how selfless Madge was when it came to our relationship, willing to deal with my shit, still talking to me and helping me. 

I never realized how much of a burden she thinks being my friend is. It’s not until I feel the tears coming down my face that I realize just how much that realization hurts. I feel like someone came in and scooped out my stomach with a melon baller, and it’s become increasingly harder to keep myself from full out hyperventilating. 

For the past few weeks Haymitch has been really drilling home that my depression and my other illnesses are not my fault, and not always something I can be in control of, that it’s just like any other illness. Sometimes it just gets the best of me. That I have nothing to be ashamed of, and that I should keep on working on it instead of letting it consume me.

Right now it feels like whatever the fuck is wrong with me isn’t just consuming me, it’s tearing down everyone else who sinks down in the gutter with me. 

For so many years I kept a small shrivel of sanity knowing that if I didn’t want to get better for myself I should at least do it for Madge, that if she didn’t hate me or think I was fucked up maybe I wasn’t, maybe I shouldn’t hate myself all that much. 

It sucks finding out I was wrong about all of that, almost as much as it hurts to think she doesn’t consider the shitheads we grew up with shitty enough to get rid of. 

I feel like I’m suffocating, and at this point I’m not even fucking thinking clearly as I throw my bottle, my matchbox of pills, and my wallet into my backpack and grab my keys. All I know is I can’t be in my safe haven right now if she’s next door. I grab a blanket as an afterthought in the hand not clutching my cigarettes, and tear out of the door, running down the stairs to my car. 

An hour of driving and six cigarettes later, I somehow find myself back at the abandoned house Peeta had taken me to a few weeks ago on our date. Grabbing my shit I make my way to the dilapidated porch, arranging myself on the blanket, feeling number than I have in a long time. 

Pulling out my bottle of whiskey I begin to drink, staring ahead but not actually looking at anything, obsessively rolling over the conversation I was unlucky enough to stick around to overhear. As the contents of the bottle get lower and lower, I feel my vision swimming as the feelings I usually fight so hard to keep at bay completely overtake me. 

For a long time I can’t help but feel anger towards her for driving me out of my own home, but I’m at least cognizant enough to realize it’s probably good I left when I did. I have no business being around that many narcotics right now, not when I’m sitting here wishing I could take care of her problem once and for all. 

When I can’t sit up anymore because of how dizzy I am I wrap the blanket around my body, resting my head on my bag, before the blackness descends and I pass out.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep when I feel someone shaking my shoulder. For a moment I think I’m at home, in my bed and I ignore whoever it is before realizing I’m in the middle of nowhere probably about to be murdered. I sit up too quickly, my vision going black for a moment before my eyes focus on Peeta’s very worried face. 

“Katniss, are you okay? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” He says as he envelopes me in a tight embrace, shaking slightly. I nod against his shoulder, trying to get my mouth to open but failing to do so. 

“Do you know how long you’ve been here Katniss?” He asks me when he leans back to take in my set up, eyeing the empty bottle laying next to me before looking back to my face. 

“I left my phone at home.” I tell him with a shrug, not meeting his eyes. He sighs. 

“Delly called me yesterday afternoon. Said she was leaving her place with Madge when they caught you tearing out of the parking lot like a mad person, but neither of them could get a hold of you. I’ve been looking for you for an entire day.” He says, settling himself down next to me and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I tense up but if he notices he doesn’t say anything. 

An entire day. I’m slightly ashamed at how long I slept after passing out, but the idea of going back to my apartment makes my stomach fill with dread. I’m woefully out of alcohol or else I wouldn’t even entertain it. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think.” I offer with another shrug, looking out in front of where we sit. I can feel his eyes on me, but I don’t turn to see, just like he doesn’t relent of his fucking hold on me. 

“What happened Katniss?” He asks me quietly, like he’s approaching a small animal. I probably look like one right now. 

“Nothing Peeta. Just wanted to get out.” I say tersely not wanting to talk about it. I never like talking about this shit. I am only realizing Madge never asked because she probably didn’t care. 

“I know you’re lying. Being out here alone and asleep is dangerous Katniss. Let me in.” He states. It’s not a question, he’s not asking. He’s telling. My anger spikes, completely misplaced. 

“It’s nothing Peeta, don’t act like you fucking care.” I snap, turning to stare him down. He still doesn’t relent his hold, and I feel like knives are poking into my skin where he’s touching me. I just want to fucking be alone. 

“That’s a lie and I know it. Delly thinks she might know what’s wrong but I don’t want to jump to conclusions.” He says calmly and I snort rolling my eyes. 

“I’m sure Delly thinks she knows a lot of fucking things Peeta.” I say snidely. 

I would normally be more vicious, but Delly is the only one I’m not actually angry at right now so I hold it back. I never realized she might actually be a person worth keeping around until she stood up for me against my best friend yesterday. In my head I agree with myself to be nicer to her if I ever get the chance again, if I somehow manage to navigate this fuck fest and come out on the other end alive. 

“She told me she thinks you may have overheard a conversation she was having with Madge.” Peeta says, squeezing my arm, causing me to tense again. So fucking noble, wanting to talk about my problems. Too bad I don’t believe anyone actually gives a shit. 

“Yeah and so what? She stood up for me while Madge said some shitty things. I don’t know why you and her are acting like you care. Just because I’m fucked up doesn’t mean I need anyone to save me from myself. If Madge hates dealing with me I’m sure you do too.” I say, voice low, my teeth clenched. I watch as Peeta’s face gets red, his eyes growing hard. 

Good. I don’t want to be the only one in a shitty mood. 

“Don’t assume just because Madge is a shitty person that I’m one too. Or Delly. Delly really likes you Katniss, and I love you. I’m not trying to save you from yourself, that’s not my fucking job. I’m just trying to be there for you when you need it, and I could never hate dealing with you. I’m not trying to fix you either so get over yourself.” He snaps, finally slipping his arm off of my shoulders. 

“Whatever Peeta. I’m sure you would love it if I could just be a normal girlfriend who didn’t have so much fucking baggage, just like Madge wishes she could have a normal best friend. Do me a favor okay? End this before you start to resent me too.” I yell, struggling to my side to find my pills. 

When my hand closes around the matchbox I pull it out, only to have Peeta snatch it away before I have a chance to take anything. 

“What the fuck Peeta I need those!” I shout, but he holds firm, going through the box instead. 

“I’ll give them back when we’re done with this conversation. I don’t feel like having it while you go comatose on me.” He says simply, tucking the box into this pants pocket, while I feel the rage inside boil. 

We sit in silence for a while, me trying to keep a grip on whatever it is that I’m feeling, while he waits me out. It’s fucking annoying. 

“Look Katniss.” He says finally breaking our standoff. “No one is normal, that’s bullshit. I know you’re hurt and angry and you deserve to be, but not at me. I’m not going to end this shit just because you’re freaking out about what your friend said.” He says and I roll my eyes. 

“Well you’d be better off.” I whisper, pulling my legs to my chest with my arms. 

“Is that how you think of me and all of my shit? That you’d be better off not dealing with it?” He asks me quietly and I sigh. 

“No of course not. You can’t help what happened to you and you try everyday.” I automatically respond. 

“Yeah well that’s the same for you. So why on earth do you think I would feel differently?” He reasons, cocking an eyebrow at me. 

Damn it. I hate when he uses fucking logic on me. Logically I understand what he’s saying but for some reason I want to fight it. 

“Yeah well I’ve never found you passed out on booze and drugs in an abandoned house.” I say haughtily, as if I’m trying to prove I’m more fucked up than he is. I honestly think that’s the case most of the time anyways. 

“Yeah well you’ve had to pull me off of a guy I was probably going to kill so I’d say we’re about even.” He informs me and I meet his gaze on accident. He’s not joking or trying to make light of the situation and that thaws me a little. Fucking hell. 

Sighing I lean my head on his shoulder, feeling him kiss the top of my head. 

“Sorry. I’m just fucked up right now.” I tell him quietly and he hums, bringing his arm around me again, but this time I don’t tense up. 

“Well what she said was fucked up, but that’s her problem. Not yours.” He tells me and I shrug again. Apparently it’s my new favorite form of unspoken of communication. 

After a few minutes he squeezes his arm around me, jostling me a little. 

“Come on. I grabbed some of your stuff from your apartment. I figured if I found you, you wouldn’t want to go back there, so if it’s cool we can go back to my place and you can shower and lay down in an actual bed.” He tells me and I feel some relief flood my bones. I don’t want to go back to my place, that’s for sure. 

“What about your roommate?” I ask a little self consciously, being as I’ve never met the guy and I’m sure I look like hell frozen the fuck over, but Peeta just waves his hand in a dismissive manner. 

“He won’t care. He lives with me after all. And his girlfriend is like us, so he won’t judge.” He tells me, pulling me up as he stands. 

I just nod my head and follow after him, feeling drained, tired, and overwhelmingly sad, and for some reason all I can think of is something Haymitch had told me a week ago. 

“Sometimes we take a step forward and shit comes around and knocks us back ten. It happens to everyone alive, but how you deal with it determines everything.” 

The part that worries me is that I have no idea how to even begin to get to a place where I even can deal with this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't review with Madge hate, it will piss me off. There is a lot that's going on with this part of the story, and I know it's not cool and it hurts personally when people are dismissive towards those suffering with depression, but Madge has her own shit going on that we aren't privy towards yet.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys check the end for some notes!

It’s been two days since Peeta found me at the abandoned house and brought me to his apartment, and if he minds that I haven’t made any move to leave he hasn’t said anything. He packed me enough clothes to be here a week at least, and since I can barely get myself to get up and leave his bed during the day I plan on wearing out my welcome. 

It’s almost fucking infuriating how kind and attentive he’s been while I’ve slowly gone quiet and utterly useless. He helps me shower in the morning, washing my hair for me, saying things about me to me that I’ve only ever heard come from him. When I start crying randomly in the middle of the night like a piece of shit he holds me and doesn’t ask for anything more, doesn’t even let his hands wander, like he’s some kind of damn saint sent to me to help keep my sanity in tact. 

I’m starting to think he may actually be just that; a fucking saint, which makes me feel ridiculous and stupid as hell but I can’t help where my mind drifts these past few days, and if the thought has nothing to do with Madge or those assholes she calls friends then I won’t complain. 

This morning after we showered he even towel dried my hair and asked for help braiding it so he could help me with it from now on. It took everything in me to not refuse him, silently nodding like I had gone mute or some shit, showing him how to separate the strands. 

If I thought I wasn’t good enough for him before, I think it and even know it more vehemently now. 

I’m in full breakdown mode, I’ve been here enough to know what it feels like, but for the first time I’m not face first in a bottle of liquor, using it to chase down whatever pills my hands land on. I know that even if I asked, the most Peeta would give me right now would be a beer, but for some weird ass reason I don’t even want that. My pattern of self-destruction; for the first time maybe ever, seems to be evolving somewhat. 

I would consider it progress if it didn’t mean I’ve been thinking about all the shit that’s been laid at my mental doorstep nonstop because of it. I think about the conversation I overheard between Madge and Delly all the time, at this point I’m not even sure if I’m remembering it correctly, if the utterly hateful things I hear in Madge’s voice were real or are embellished by my mind. 

I feel fucking crazy, and I can tell based on how Peeta eyes me worriedly when he thinks I’m not looking that I must look crazy as well. 

I just wish I could get my mind to shut the fuck up, I wish I hadn’t walked out onto my balcony at that moment, and had continued on in the state I was in, never hearing that conversation and not knowing how burdened Madge feels and has probably always felt in our friendship. 

I’m sitting smoking out on Peeta’s balcony; which is ten times nicer than mine, with chairs and a table with a fucking umbrella and a real ash tray, when I hear the sliding glass door open behind me. 

I don’t bother to turn around, since Peeta’s roommate is basically nonexistent and giving us space, I know it’s him, and I can feel his eyes on me as he approaches. 

“Katniss? There’s someone here to see you.” He says as he comes to crouch down next to where I sit. 

I can feel my eyes widen and my heartbeat start to run at a fucking gallop as I prepare for him to tell me it’s her, my best friend who I am in no way prepared to deal with, ready to have it out and leave me an even more broken mess that I am now. 

Without even thinking I turn to look into the living room of his apartment, confused and a little bit fucking elated when I see Delly and not Madge. She’s obviously nervous, sitting in a lazy boy twisting her hands in her lap. Turning back to Peeta I raise an eyebrow at him, waiting to be filled in on what she wants. 

“She’s nervous you’re mad at her I think. She’s been really killing herself over this Katniss. I know you’re angry at Madge but from what you told me Delly defended you right?” He asks in a gentle voice, like he’s afraid I’m going to snap at him and bite his head off for his question. 

“Yeah no, you’re right, Delly is not on my shit list right now that’s for sure. Why the hell is she nervous to talk to me?” I ask him in a whisper so she doesn’t overhear. I’m apparently big on not being overheard now for blatantly obvious reasons. 

“I don’t know, why don’t you go and find out?” He says with a shrug, looking from me to Delly who is still seated inside. 

Sighing I stub out my cigarette into the ashtray and nod my head so he knows I’m coming. Standing I follow behind him as he makes his way into the apartment. 

“Hey Dells, here’s Katniss.” He takes a moment to look between us, me standing awkwardly behind him, clutching one arm in my hand, Delly’s eye flitting between him and me as she continues to wring her damn hands. 

“So I’m going to go run some errands really quick and let you guys talk. I’ll be back.” He finally says after a moment, placing a kiss on my forehead and giving Delly a quick smile. 

When I hear the front door close I’m still standing like a moron, waiting for her to say something for what seems like fucking hours.   
“So….” She begins nervously before clearing her throat and staring at the floor like it has the answers to whatever question she’s asking herself. 

“I’m not mad at you Delly.” I finally blurt out like some kind of maniac. I feel like an absolute asshole when I have to restrain myself from laughing when she looks visibly relieved. 

“Really? I thought you were, I know you heard what Madge said-“ She begins but I cut her off with a quick shake of my head. I don’t want to talk about Madge, and she must receive the message loud and clear because she nods once. 

“Delly you were defending me. You didn’t say a damn bad thing about me. I’m not mad at you. If anything I like you more now than I did before.” I tell her honestly, finally sitting down on the couch near the chair she’s sitting in. 

“Oh thank god Katniss because you’re my friend and I don’t ever want you to be upset with me over something, especially when I only think good things about you.” She says quickly, like I’ve given her some kind of fucking gift and she needs to tell me how much she loves it. 

“You’re my friend too Delly. And thank you.” I tell her in a barely audible voice, but I know she heard me because her entire face lights up like a damn Christmas tree. She regains her composure quickly though, and I’m grateful she seems to be holding off on the gushing she’s known to do with her sorority sisters. 

Delly seems to know me better than I ever really gave her credit. 

“You can tell me to fuck off if you want, but how are you doing Katniss?” She asks after a long stretch of quiet, catching me slightly off guard at how she’s worded the question, and honestly at the fact that she’s even asking. 

I take a long moment to think about my answer. Usually I just tell people I’m fine, but I know I don’t look it, and she’s my neighbor who knows I’m basically living with my boyfriend to avoid going back home to the scene of the crime. 

“Not great I guess, but Peeta’s been really understanding. He kind of hovers or whatever but it’s nice, I’ve never had anyone really look after me before.” I tell her with a shrug, not meeting her eye. The carpet has suddenly become very interesting to me too. 

“Yeah he can hover. One time when I was six I had the flu and I swear he came over every day with one of his toys or something to make me feel better. He didn’t really understand that having fun wouldn’t make me stop puking my brains out.” She offers with a smile and even I laugh a little at thinking about my then six year old boyfriend offering a sick friend a toy to play with to get better. 

“I can only imagine how bad he is since he’s in love with you.” She adds as an afterthought and I feel my face flush. 

“Yeah but I’m just not used to the attention. Usually by now I’d be passed out and you’d be carrying me up the stairs or some shit.” I say, knowing we both know it’s the truth. Finally I look up to meet her eyes, and see that there’s no judgment or malice in them, she seems to just be agreeing with what I’ve said. She would know, after all she has carried me up those damn stairs many times. 

“This is better.” I add, almost as an afterthought and she nods her head in agreement. 

And I know it is, this is better. I don’t miss waking up on my bathroom floor not knowing what happened the night before, tasting stale alcohol on my lips, pills scattered all over my bedroom dresser. It is better instead having someone who doesn’t hate me for falling down, someone who is giving me the time I need to pick myself up all while lending a helping hand. 

Maybe all I’ve needed to help myself get better at dealing with my shit and breakdowns was to know that someone actually just give a damn that I got hurt in the first place. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Delly leaves soon after Peeta gets back from the store, saying something about dinner at her sorority house, and surprising both Peeta and I when she gives me a long hug before she walks out of the door. I’m sure I looked somewhat shocked, but the smug smile on Peeta’s face tells me he had an idea we would work everything out to begin with. I just roll my eyes at him with a small smile and throw myself back down on the couch, watching as he goes about putting away whatever groceries he bought on his outing. 

“So everything’s good with Delly?” He asks when he’s finished and has come to join me in the living room. I lift my legs up for him to sit down next to me, immediately placing them back down on his lap once he’s seated. 

“Yeah. Nothing was really bad to begin with. It was nice of her to come over here though.” I tell him honestly. He hums in agreement, playing with my feet as he thinks about what he wants to say next.

I just watch him, watch his process of trying so desperately to word whatever he wants to say in a way that won’t send me flying off the handle or running into his room, wondering what on earth he could see in me before he finally speaks up. 

“So you haven’t heard anything from Madge I’m guessing?” He asks timidly, not looking at me and starting intently at my feet. 

“No I haven’t. Delly said she thinks Madge headed home for the break before fall classes start.” I tell him, and I can hear how small my voice is, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m passed hiding the fact that I’m upset about this from him, besides he knows me so well by now I couldn’t hide it if I tried. 

He just nods his head, not pushing the issue, knowing that even knowing that tid bit of information is driving me mentally insane before speaking up again. 

“I was thinking maybe we should go somewhere for the break. Nothing crazy you know, neither of us is made of money, but maybe just something for a day or two. Get out of this damn town before fall semester starts and we have to deal with classes again.” He says as he begins to rub my feet. 

“Yeah that could be good. Where would we go?” I ask as my eyelids flutter shut at the feeling of his hands working on the arch of my foot. 

“I don’t know, we can take a few days to think about it I guess, but I’m glad you want to go. I think we could use some fun.” He says and I nod in agreement, letting my head fall back against the armrest of the couch. 

Fuck he’s good with his hands. 

We sit on the couch for a long time in silence, in fact I’m practically asleep, when the front door opens and I tense up at the sound of Peeta’s roommate gracing us with his presence for the first real time since Peeta carried me up the stairs the other night. 

I would be lying if I said the dude – Finnick - isn’t seriously attractive. It’s like some wonderful fucking rule that hot men move in packs and Peeta and his roommate are no exception. 

A few months ago I would have drunkenly thrown myself at him, but now I can just appreciate that he’s good looking without wanting to fuck his brains out, since the only man I want to have sex with is currently rubbing my calves and does shit like ask to learn to braid my hair. 

A few months with Peeta is breaking me of so many of my bad habits, and it’s enough to make my head spin, but I like it so much I’m not about to question it.

I hear more than I see Finnick walk over into the living room before he comes fully into my view, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms with a shit eating grin on his face. I try to not immediately act defensive, Peeta has warned me that Finnick could be an asshole but didn’t mean it and was really a good guy, but I don’t know that for myself yet. 

“Well isn’t this all very domestic of you two? Tell me Peet, what do I have to do to get the same kind of treatment from you? I’ll tell you now if it’s sex I’m open to it.” He says with a wink in my direction and I clench my teeth with the effort it takes to not roll my eyes at him. 

“Sorry Finnick, I’m pretty sure it would make Annie super jealous if she knew I gave you better foot massages than she does.” Peeta replies playfully, earning a laugh from Finnick. 

I’ve yet to meet Annie, since I haven’t really met Finnick until now, but from what Peeta’s told me, when she’s around Finnick’s an absolute sap. It must be something to behold because right now he’s grinning wolfishly at the two of us, like some douche at a club who just set his eyes on the drunkest girl in the skimpiest outfit. 

“Oh I don’t know about that Peet, I think she’d be into it, she’d want to watch you rub me down. How about you Katniss would you like that?” He asks me, that same ass eating smile plastered on his face and I sit up abruptly, holding in the hell fire I want to rain down on him. 

“Nope. What I would like is a cigarette.” I say more to Peeta than to Finnick, trying to keep myself from running out onto the balcony to escape this weird ass bro fest. 

I’m alone for about a solid minute before I hear the glass door sliding open behind me, but once again I don’t turn around. If it’s Peeta that’s one thing, if it’s Finnick he’ll get whatever he invokes now that I’m out in the open. 

“Mind if I join you?” Finnick asks as he sits down and pulls out his own pack of cigarettes, not waiting to hear my answer as he lights one. I shrug, because my answer obviously doesn’t matter to him, and turn to look out onto the parking lot below us. 

“Sorry about that in there. I know I can be a bit much.” He says after a moment of quiet and I turn to look at him with a raised eyebrow, causing him to laugh. 

“Yeah I know, suggesting a threesome is probably more than a bit much, but it’s just how I am. You’ll learn I don’t mean half of what I say.” He offers and I lower my eyebrow slowly. 

“Your girlfriend must be a fucking saint.” I say in response, making him laugh again. 

“She really is, but she’s more than just that. She’s brilliant, and funny, and gorgeous. I think the two of you would get along. I know she wants to meet the girl that has Peeta smiling that a fool all the damn time.” He tells me with a sincere smile and I feel myself blush slightly. He notices and raises his own eyebrow at my reaction. 

“Seriously Katniss. That guy was so mopey when he got here, which I understand. I mean I don’t understand but I get it I guess. But then one night he comes home from the library and all of a sudden it was like someone added instant cheer into his cereal that morning.” He says as smoke curls around his mouth before floating up into the air around us. 

“He makes me happy too.” I tell him, not really ready to tell this stranger about how much Peeta really does make me happy. He considers me for a moment and nods his head as though I said something thought provoking. 

“Good, because I’m pretty sure that guy in there-“ He pauses to point through the door to where Peeta is sitting on the couch watching TV, “would move heaven and hell to make you smile, you know?” 

I don’t take my eyes off of Peeta, watching as he laughs along with whatever it is that he’s watching as I nod. I know Finnicks’ right, Peeta has proven more than once he will do whatever he can to make me happy, to make me feel better about myself and to help me get control on what I’m dealing with. 

I couldn’t be more lucky if a genie offered me three fucking wishes. 

“Yeah I know he would. Trust me I know how lucky I am.” I tell Finnick, my eyes still on Peeta. He seems to realize I’m deep in thought and doesn’t speak anymore after that, the two of us smoking in silence, and after a moment I decide three things. 

The first is that despite myself – and himself – I like Finnick. The second is that I know where I want to go on vacation. The third is that I have something I desperately need to tell Peeta. 

My last session with Haymitch he said something that I guess didn’t really resonate with me until now, and it’s fucking annoying how his little “nuggets of wisdom” tend to creep up on me, but I can’t help but hear him in my head at this moment right now. 

“You’re always running girl, some bad shit happens and you run from it. I get it, I do it too, but if you want to ever have a chance at getting a handle on this shit maybe you need to start confronting some things from your past. And even more than that, maybe you should confront some of the things that are happening right now in your present.” 

Getting up I flick my dead cigarette into the ash tray and pause for a moment to nod at Finnick, which he returns, before heading into the living room and coming to stand directly in front of Peeta. 

He doesn’t look upset at all that I’m blocking him from the television, he just looks up at me and smiles like I just told him I shit him out the sun and stars.   
“Hey sorry about him, I know he can be a bit much.” He says, his smile still dancing in his blue eyes. 

“He’s alright, I actually think I like him.” I say, still not moving and not letting my gaze waver from his. 

“I know where we should go for our vacation.” I tell him, and he quirks an eyebrow. I know he’s probably wondering what’s up with me right now, but for the first time in days I feel like I have too much energy to be sitting. He must sense the shift in my mood because he’s still smiling that smile he seems to save for me. 

“Oh yeah? And where is that exactly?” He asks playfully, sitting up fully and leaning forward to place his hands on either side of my hips. 

“My dads cabin, it’s only like four hours from here. I haven’t been in years but I want to take you there.” I tell him, leaving out that I haven’t been there since my dad died. I know he’ll know it without me saying it. 

“Katniss are you sure?” He asks me, and I couldn’t be more sincere if I wanted to be, because this man in front of me knows how big of a deal this is for me, knows without me saying anything that this is a huge step. 

“Yes Peeta, I’m positive. Want to know why?” I ask him, bringing my hands up to rest on his forearms. He nods in reply and I smile. 

“Because I love you. That’s why.” 

His eyes light up in response, and I know that while he didn’t mind waiting for me to catch up, he’s thrilled to hear me say I love him too. He’s on me in an instant, kissing everywhere he can reach, and I can’t help how I start laughing or the smile on my face. 

I know that some things may be shit right now; I still need to deal with Madge, and I still have a lot of work to go before I can learn how to break down without falling completely apart, but for whatever reason Peeta loves me and I am lucky because of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone enjoys this chapter, and I'd like to say thank you to everyone who listened to me and didn't leave Madge hate! I got some great and insightful reviews on the last chapter, and I promise I won't leave you guys hanging on what's going on between Madge and Katniss for long! 
> 
> I'd also like to dedicate this chapter and give a shout out to ordinaryryder for all the encouragement, and feedback on the story and for really helping to get my ass in gear and keep it that way when it came to finishing this chapter and not letting me take my usual four months to update! :)


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